#I think this is the first time any of our characters have interacted

[systcmaticeras]

hi there! we're a p-did system, and figured it might be nice to try and find a sense of community somewhere, so why not try here? we've had suspicions for a while but consistently gaslit ourselves into thinking otherwise– this is our first time accepting that this in fact a likely reality and are self identifying as plural until we can get in to see a psych to confirm. we use i/me and we/us rather interchangeably for the most part and to the best of my knowledge as the host we're all okay with they/them pronouns but some of us have other pronouns we also use! now, a few rules or general topics to cover real quick:

• we are not here to engage in syscourse, we aren't professionals or doctors, it's simply not our place.

• we do not mind (pro)endos interacting, we haven't been able to form a solid opinion on that subject matter, but we also do not want to discriminate or be rude to anyone, all plurals are welcome and we'd love to get to know you!

• we don't tolerate hate speech or bullying, if anyone is commenting such things on our posts they will be swiftly blocked.

• we would prefer that no one under the age of 16 (bodily) interacts in dms or anything unless they need some help or support, we are 19 bodily, so we just want everyone to be safe! any ages are welcome on this page, however almost all of us do swear and have a dark sense of humor, so keep this in mind!

• we love introjects! for who we know of rn, a lot of our system is introjects, not everyone to be clear, but we've always found great comfort in different forms of media, so we assume our brain split some of the characters we resonated with the most and still continues to do so sometimes!

with all of that out of that out of the way, a brief intro to the alters as we know ourselves!

FIZZ

they/them, key-host (rarely leaves front, most others blend with or co-host with me), potential helluva boss introject but this is unclear, i may have just stolen my name from it!

CONNOR

he/him/they/them, emotional protector, fronts occasionally, mostly during times of stress, but sometimes just when he wants to. dear evan hansen introject.

RIFF

he/him/they/them, protector, possible gatekeeper, second most frequent fronter so far, has a typing quirk, generally pretty caring but can definitely be stubborn and sarcastic. west side story introject.

LESTAT

he/him/they/them, role unclear, doesn't front frequently, tends to use french terms and a fancier vocabulary. iwtv introject.

DALE

he/him/they/them, role unclear, rarely fronts, not very confident but extremely sweet, wants the best for everybody.

V1

they/them/it/its, persecutor, co-con frequently but unlikely to fully front, harsh, does not like others, does not care to communicate with others. they have not shared their name, thus the placeholder name of V1.

ROSALIE / V2

she/her/they/them, possible caretaker, she doesn't front frequently, we don't know much about her, very sweet and motherly. name is assumed.

V3

she/her/they/them, role unclear, pretty chill personality from what we know, hasn't fronted much, first one to inspire me to make a picrew for her, hoping to have a name soon.

P

she/her/they/them, little – role unclear, we do not plan to share too much info on her, she fronts occasionally, and absolutely loves jellyfish and ham.

that's about all we have for right now, but we hope to meet some fellow plurals and cannot wait to find some community here!

~ fizz

[unproduciblesmackdown]

also it's something (better) like, the exercise of deliberately [art imitates life imitates art] holding up Billions to My IRL Things Perspective and going like whaaat would i want for winston. first answer is you want any character to not have been within the scope of the show in the first place, and to exit it since they are. and you kind of get that in the accidental reward in banishing winston, since like in the end it's just that the show doesn't care about him existing at that point But like it's winston sitting there quietly as everyone leaves & turns out the lights & Then he can leave too; others have peaced out & nobody remembers he exists so Now he can go off & do whatever.

but like in true form i think they definitely accidentally baked in another divine reward for winston in that, like, the way he's kept around as fodder for these fun little [pov: enjoy abusing this guy] asides with him, where it Just So Happens that he's autistic as something they're unaware of but is completely relevant to the expectation we understand him to be inferior(tm), it Just So Happens that he's also ""bad"" at not ""causing"" abuse to be turned on him. he's ""bad"" at staying in line. like well yes Yes that's what i want for him. just like In Real Life it's like yeah Ideally i'd want people to be able to extricate themselves from where they're trapped in power structures & i'd want them to have the perspective about it of understanding they're not Inferior / i.e. they are as much a person as anyone else and they're not corrupting everything good / i.e. it wasn't them Bringing It Upon Themselves and it's not them being Destructive by toppling a jenga tower of a hierarchy that happened to be pressing down on them. and winston is the kind of [the ruinerrrrrr] who is Turned On exactly because he keeps acting like someone who's on the verge of breaking out of the [being in line] someone demands of him as autist, employee, whatever other supposed manifestations of [inferior]

like in the 5 second stretches in which winston's allowed to speak before retaliation, it's because he's like "matter of factly" delivering whatever Information that's useful for another plotline. then he Brings It Upon Himself by making people aware that he's Also existing in his own right as a person rather than what they think serves their own deal / what they want from him at all times, perhaps by expressing his personality (didn't appeal to them! so it was Wrong) or not b/c of anything in particular said or done at present, just b/c people have a constant / accumulating contempt for him so their being in the same room as him & able to see & hear him is already dangerous. the [we're just seeing Any Abusive Dynamic in action] continuing apace.

and it's like, well, right there. he's written as acting like someone who doesn't blame himself for how he's treated, which billions frames as being Rude & Mean, and so too does everyone's abusers lmfao like and that these are his moments that are written to be Bringing It Upon Himself. and it's like hell yeah he doesn't blame himself. hell yeah that his self-esteem can manifest as anger at all. hell yeah that he keeps expressing himself with personality & confidence & doesn't even disguise his having been hurt, & it's this [his ass is Not grey rocking] that billions frames as both him "causing" his abuse & making that abuse "successful" lol, wrow just like real life!! and when like speaking of real life yeah it's not "bad" that people Do engage in strategies to mitigate & survive, including things like blaming themselves or being too "boring" to be anything but a non dialogued background character b/c that's all that goes unpunished, it's bad b/c it's done to them at all, not [ohh they're doing it to themselvesss] and like i'm asking myself like Ideally. what do i want Ideally. and i'd want winston to know that it's being Done To Him & i'd want him to find as much room for his personhood & autonomy as possible. and that's basically how he's written anyways, and billions hates that like You See this is why he deserves it this is why he's doing it to himself. and i'm like my god if that's not Inspiration for like "so what if people don't find you Personally Likable" and not preemptively holding back all personality or anything that'd draw attention as if you exist as a person in your own right & not something that only either gets in the way of or serves their wants of a Real person (someone with more power) like hell yeah you have him out here doing it =']

another fun addendum is like, billions isn't getting into it much b/c it doesn't seem to care much about "what if some people were peers & seem to have a genuine, recipcrocal relationship?" but that it just so happened to be like "oh tuk as the next closest loser who deserves it might be nice to winston" while it's framing winston as the "worse" Loser as being....unconditionally supportive of tuk. while the one downside of billions Also giving bentuk as much as it is is that it also inevitably has that shadow of "but ben is Superior to tuk" and like that it's correct that everyone encourages tuk to Stop Bringing It Upon Himself and start being less of a loser; it's wrong for winston to be like hey let's go have a foursome. like yeah probably don't make a list of the women you work with you'd be dtf but it's not like i'm convinced "ah billions and it's strong anti misogyny stance like" roflmao and billions is Not reflecting on "the downsides of unconditional support?" there when winston was beaten up for criticising taylor earlier like we WILL take his ideas while looting his [beaten unconscious] body there but he WAS wrong to express them as though he's BETTER than taylor!!! mafee's beautiful show of loyalty in kicking his ass even when he might agree with the argument and then benefit when it's adopted by taylor anyways! so it's as usual actually purely based on hierarchy & who gets to be in charge of people. it's correct for ben to be in charge of tuk, unless he has to step aside for that bizarre dead-end subplot about how it's tuk's fault if he's treated badly, b/c it's really his own Failure to have Confidence to know he has good ideas [raising our voice to deliver this message over the sound of breaking desks and chairs and computer monitors over winston because he had the confidence to act like he deserved to talk to someone and because he knows his ideas efforts & results are good & valuable around there] like. and isn't it sooo fucked up to talk about who you're dtf in the episode that has it be neutral if your boss is dtf & lets you know but is nice about it (and you're already Correctly tending to their ego, which you're responsible for!) like hey no possible problem! it's not even so much of a problem for a boss man to have the sex they're entitled to & be rude about their leveraging their power in that acquisition that it Stays a problem into the next season. ew, winston is Known (Inferred) Dtf??? we'll use it to exploit His vulnerability, exacerbate it, & punish him further for good measure in another episode that just revels in abuse & violation with a sexual aspect once again, but like, hey tuk don't do that, winston's such a Bad Influence for being like, shrug, kneejerk intervening with the Good Friendship where the One In Charge leaps in & Tells tuk the Correct thing to do. obviously there's also the tragedy that billions will Never let winston push back against Real Winners like rian or taylor in A Way That Matters (actually gets in their way at all) lol like. one thing that would have really been fun, winston should've literal kneejerk started physically fighting wags in either pertinent scene in 7x03 for real 110%. i wouldn't be like Gasp Violence Is Never The Answer if he just hit someone to hit them b/c fuck you. or broke anything on his way out etc etc. billions would Never let him. which is the other side of the same coin of [why he should get to]

tl;dr how great that winston's being "out of line" means he's basically always noticeably flouting & rebelling against the [He Deserves Abuse] agenda lol. that IS what i want. his being "beyond hope" like ohhh he's sooo stupid he doesn't realize how much he has the bad tastes & wrong interests & annoying personality He Will Always Be This Way like hell yeah!!! billions like oh no winston's personhood will never stay tamped down & locked away such that some godawful person tolerates keeping him in their inventory :( ohhh the ABA will never work :( that's right!!!!!!!!!! although they're not sad about it because it's about relishing the promise there will always be True Inferiors you can enjoy abusing with your righteous power over, but like well you wrote him escaping anyways even while dragging other "better" characters into standing around to serve axe's need for more than 1.8 employees and [crickets, reverberating cough, sneaker scuff] like. another ""wrong"" thing for winston to do, another thing for him to not "deserve," which is itself godawful actually lol like lord what it "rewards" its Good, Deserving characters with, no thanks. meanwhile winston's punishment is that he's autistic and """bad""" at being abused like lmfao good for him, fantastic for him, just what i want

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: i caved and did an actual Ewan fic! Given that the lad is more of a public persona nowadays, I reckon it's fine (?) This is pure self-indulgence for all my Ewan loves. May have a continuation but idk for now, enjoy!!

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

The reader and Ewan are paired for press interviews. Despite barely having any scenes together and only knowing each other in passing on set, the chemistry they share cannot be denied...

Your first round of press takes place in a primped up hotel suite in Paris, thanks to the team at HBO.

You are an up and coming actress, much like some of your costars in the show, but the pressure is heavier on you because you were entering in season two, whereas everyone was already well-acquainted with one another.

Your few scenes were mostly with Jace and Baela, so you grew close to Harry and Bethany.

However, the media team decided to pair you up with Ewan for the day. A little fun initiative was set by the team that a character from the Blacks would be do press with a counterpart from the Greens - hence, yourself and Ewan.

You're nervous as you walk down the hallway, unable to fully pay attention to the instructions your lovely assistant gives you.

She tells you about the different interviewers for the day, bloggers and magazine writers from all over the world. She reminds you that each one will only be for a maximum of 5 minutes, so it shouldn't be too complicated. She smiles and eagerly says, "Take a deep breath, you got this!", as you reach the suite doors.

But in your mind, all you can recall is your first interaction with Ewan, almost a year ago right after the table read. You had nervously blurted out to him that Aemond is your favourite character, after he just asked, "How are you?". He laughed, said thank you, before he was pulled away in conversation by Tom.

You pray to the fictional Westerosi gods that things will fare better today. That you won't get all tongue-tied when those steel blue eyes land on you.

Upon entering the room, the team is quick to fuss over you. Sometimes you forget that you're actually an actress now. A celebrity, some might say. It all feels surreal and you have a inkling it won't ever stop being this way.

Ewan is already seated in front of the camera, and he stands to give you a hug as you finally walk over.

"Hey there, how are you?" he smiles widely, smelling like cigarettes and something muskier as he wraps his arms around you.

Unroll your tongue. Rework your brain. Calm down.

"Hey, Ewan!" you respond. "I'm doing great, happy to see you again."

"Well, I only wish we could have had more time together on set." Ever the gentleman, he gestures for you to take your seat before he does the same. "But next season perhaps? Who knows?"

"Oh, sure." You settle in, pleased by the fact that your chairs are only about a foot apart. "We can both look forward to my character giving Aemond the arse kicking he deserves."

He laughs, eyes glinting with mischief. "Come on now, I was thinking our characters are actually quite compatible, no?"

"Well, I sure wouldn't want to step on Alys' shoes. She'd probably curse my character all the way to Yi Ti."

"Hmm," he hums, biting his lip. You can't help but hear Aemond when he does that. "I say you can always count on Aemond and Vhagar to come to the rescue of a beautiful maiden such as yourself."

Well, you'll be damned. Ewan, while still an introvert of his own sort, is as charming as can be. If he's turning it on to get himself hyped for the press, it's working.

It's definitely working on you, to say the least.

The media manager gives the signal for the first interview to begin, and a reporter walks in, all ready with prepared script in hand.

"Here we go," you mutter, facing forward.

"Good luck," Ewan replies.

You both shake the reporter's hand, and he introduces himself as Jared.

"So guys," Jared begins. "Why don't we start with you telling me a little bit about what we can expect from your characters this season?"

The question is easy, and it doesn't take long for you and Ewan to think it through. Jared asks a few more basic questions, before drawing the attention more to you.

"When you watched season one, did you have a favourite character?" he asks you.

You smile, "Oh, I mean, I have to say - and Ewan already knows this, by the way - that Aemond was my favourite character."

"Was?" Ewan says, feigning shock. "Unacceptable."

"Was... Is... " you shrug, rolling your eyes playfully, earning a laugh from Jared. "I think I might be more a Daemon girl now."

"Oh!" Jared exclaims happily. "Does Matt know about this?"

"I'll be sure to tell him - "

Ewan interjects, shaking his head at you, "There's no need to tell him, because I'll convert her back to Team Aemond in no time, trust me."

"Daemon is awesome, though," you say to him, smiling.

"Sure." Ewan makes a face like that fact doesn't matter. Wasn't he the one who said that Daemon would be the character he would most like to play if not Aemond?

"And Caraxes is my favourite dragon." You share a look with Jared, hoping he would agree.

"Yes!" Jared says. "Caraxes is the best dragon in the show, in my opinion."

"Ah, you're both wrong," Ewan says. "My Vhagar is the oldest and baddest dragon in all of the land."

"My Vhagar, he says," you joke. "Seems like someone still hasn't shed Aemond for this press tour."

"And I never will, darling." His gaze is intense when he turns to you, and you clear your throat to fight the warmth rushing to your cheeks.

"Alright, they're giving me the wrap-up," Jared thankfully breaks the tension. "It was a pleasure talking to you guys, congratulations on the new season!"

One interview down, and your nerves have already considerably subsided. Ewan tapping your arm to start up a conversation once more surely helps in distracting you.

In the best damn way possible.

"How do you think we did? That wasn't too bad, was it?"

"I think we did quite well," you casually offer a high five, but your heart skips a beat when Ewan interlaces your suspended hands for just a moment.

"I'm glad they paired me with you," Ewan says, after releasing your hand. You hold on to the armrests to keep your fingers from twitching.

"I am, too," you admit. "I am a fan of you, after all, but I think you already know that."

He blushes, "Well, that's not a bad thing. I think you're a fantastic actress. I must have seen your first film a good ten times."

"You mean my first and only film," you add humbly. "But thank you."

"Only film for now," he affirms. "No doubt this is only the beginning for you, darling. With your talent and your charisma, I'm sure you have potential scripts piled up already."

"I could say the same for you! Have you seen what your fans say about you online? You're the internet's new boyfriend, Ewan Mitchell."

The media manager announces the next interview, but Ewan follows up with a response for you under his breath, "I have seen some things. But when I have a girlfriend, I'll make sure she won't have to share me at all."

Oh, so apparently he is single. But wait - why is he telling you this?

You don't get to mull over that thought. For the time being, the next interview starts and you make sure you do a good job at what you're paid to do - promoting the series.

Not daydreaming about getting with a costar, for heaven's sake. Stay professional.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

You feel lightheaded after finishing the seventh - or had it been the eighth? - interview.

Your assistant delivers a coffee to you during the twenty-minute break. Ewan had stepped out to the balcony to have a smoke, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

He certainly is everything you expected him to be, and so much more. Insightful, cheeky, dedicated. An artist, through and through. He was in the business for all the right reasons, passion and respect for the craft.

If he had any flaws, you weren't privy to them yet. If there are any reasons for you not to be attracted to him, you didn't know what those were yet.

And with every flirtatious remark and pointed smile, you can't deny the hope blooming in you.

"Hey," he reappears, pulling you out of your musings. "I hope you don't mind that I smell of smoke."

No, you didn't, not when it's him.

"Don't worry about it," you reassure him. You tilt your head forward to take a sip of your coffee, but a lock of your hair falls in front of your face. Annoyed, you think to reach for it, but Ewan beats you to it, tucking it back in place.

"There you go, darling," he croons, gesturing for you to proceed in drinking.

"Th-thanks." His eyes don't leave yours as you take a slow sip.

"So," you say, desperate to break the silence, "which interview did you enjoy the most so far?"

"How can I possibly choose? I mean, I really liked the one with ComicSociety, the guy that said our characters have a lot of chemistry and should get together next season. He's right, I already told you!"

"Ohhh, sure, that will go down really well with the Blacks and Greens."

He smirks, "I don't see why not?"

"For one, Aemond is ensnared by Alys, and my character will never give up fighting for Rhaenyra. I just don't see it happening, Ewan."

"Right," he mutters thoughtfully, "there is still Alys in the picture."

"Still in the picture? With the amount of steamy scenes you two have lined up for season three, I'd say she will be Aemond's entire picture in and of herself."

"Hmm," he glances at you once, then looks down. Dare you think it, does he look disappointed?

"But hey," you add lightly, "maybe we can talk to Ryan and he can flip the entire script just for our characters."

"Yeah," his cheeky smile resurfaces, "maybe you can take Alys' place."

Take the place of Alys? Of Alys. Is he insinuating...

"Next round of interviews, guys!" The media manager announces to the room.

"Here we go again, darling," Ewan squeezes your hand once, before putting on his professional face once more.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

By the end of it all, not even caffeine can perk you up. You were exhausted, you and Ewan having finished four full hours of press.

Your assistant comes to your aid, ready to direct you back to your own hotel room.

"This has been such a pleasure, Ewan, really." You stand, this time initiating the hug.

He squeezes you gently, humming in your ear. When you pull apart, he says, "I honestly wouldn't mind trudging through hours and hours of press with you."

That's sweet of him. You're too tired to mask the warmth that rises to your cheeks. "And I feel the same. Today couldn't have gone any better."

"Truly, and listen, maybe we could - "

"Ewan!" The manager approaches. "I'm so sorry to rush with this, but we need to film just a quick soundbite with you for Aemond. Just two to three questions for the Max Tiktok account?"

"Oh, okay - " Ewan is reluctant to turn away from you.

"Perfect! If you could just stand there by the windows please..." The manager already has him by the arm, directing where he has to go.

"We have to go," your assistant says. "Still have to prep for tomorrow."

"I'll see you soon, Ewan!" you call out to him. "Thanks again."

He gives a half-hearted wave, dejected as he watches you walk out of the room.

"That wasn't too bad," you share with your assistant as you enter the elevators. "Not bad at all, actually."

"Oh, you did so well," she compliments. "It definitely helps with the press that you and Mr. Mitchell have such insane natural chemistry."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

In the calm of your hotel room, you get ready for bed.

Just when you're about to finish with your nightly routine, your phone rings from your bedside table. You're quick to rush over, thinking it could be your assistant or your manager, with an urgent update about work.

But no - it's an unknown number. A UK number, as it appears.

Confused, you click answer anyway, putting it to your ear with a tentative, "Hello, who is this?"

"Hi, darling."

"Ewan?"

"Yeah, uhm, I hope I didn't disturb you - "

"Not at all," your answer comes out in a rushed breath.

"I also hope you don't mind that I got my assistant to ask your assistant to give me your number? It's what I wanted to ask you before you left today."

"Oh." You feel fully awake now, by some miracle, butterflies finding home in your stomach. "I don't mind. I... I should have given you my number, anyway. I have most of the cast's, in case I need to get a hold of you guys."

"Hmm, right," he says from the other end. You hear him calmly breathing, the sound strangely comforting, and wonder if he can hear the same from you.

He says, "I just wanted to keep hearing your voice. Didn't get enough of it today," and your heart just about stops.

"Oh. Okay," is all you are able to respond with.

"What are you doing?"

"Just... just getting ready for bed." Phone pressed to your ear, you shuffle around the room, putting some things back in place.

He says nothing for a few seconds, but you still hear his breathing, and some shuffling in the background. It occurs to you that he might just be as nervous as you are now.

Maybe.

"Listen," he finally says, "do you want to hear my pitch to Ryan about why our characters should get together next season?"

A genuine laugh escapes you. He sure is persistent. Playful, sure, but you're definitely willing to play along.

"Let's hear it."

"First," he says, "you have to renounce Daemon as your favourite character - "

"Not a chance."

" - and swear your love for Aemond."

"Keep dreaming."

He laughs, and you can only picture the corners of his eyes crinkling.

"Aww darling," he teases, "don't you love me?"

💌 part two - part three

The OGs will know that the final line is a nod to my first ever Aemond fic! 🖤

Did this slightly delay my series works? Yes, yes it did. Do I regret it? For Ewan frickin Mitchell, I would never ~

[aurumalatus]

𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 [𝟏]

pairing. kinich x fem!reader

word count. 1.5k

genre/warnings. childhood friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff and angst, drabble collection, mentions of abuse/alcoholism

summary.

in which kinich learns the value of all things: lives, friendship, and, of course, you. or, in which kinich realizes that you are the only priceless thing in this world.

author's note. first meetings and a slight introduction to our characters! i imagine each drabble will have a pretty varying length, so this one is a bit on the shorter side! either way, i hope you enjoy :) interaction is highly appreciated!

↢ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ↣

𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗙𝗜𝗥𝗦𝗧 𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗘

Kinich meets you in the spring.

The air is warm and balmy that day, with a breeze that brushes by the skin with pleasant coolness. His mother likes to take him to the market with her on days like these, probably for his own good. She tells him he’s a bit unsociable for his age, not that he disagrees—he just doesn’t see any point in changing. He does just fine spending his days at home, exploring the land around his house.

This kind of weather brings everyone outside, which leaves the market bustling—sellers scream their prices and show off their wares, and buyers haggle until their wallets are empty. He walks around with his mother for a bit, one hand gripping her skirt, and she offers him bits of candy and other treats. He rejects them all; really, he doesn’t want for much.

Still, he’s a more independent child, so eventually his mother leaves him to explore the various market stands while she goes around buying the more “boring” items. She probably hopes that he’ll make a friend or two, but he never does—most of the children don’t play in this area. They prefer to play with the Yumkasauri near the outskirts of the tribe.

Either way, he does end up looking around for a bit. Yanta, an elderly woman that sells fruit, gives him some berries to try, and he leaves with his tongue sweetened. He peers at some of the climbing gear, too, with astronomical prices that he would never be able to afford—at least not while his father gambles every Mora away. As the time passes, the crowd starts to get a bit stifling, so Kinich wanders away in search of a quieter place.

He settles for one of the walkways outside of the market, letting his legs dangle over the edge so he can look down at the river. There’s Yumkasauri whelps playing below, bumping each other into the water and screeching with joy. 

Laughter echoes from somewhere nearby—the sound of children, children like him. He tucks his knees to his chest. He has no need for friends, not when there is still so much to learn about the land. He thinks of his mother and the fresh welts on her skin. When he’s older, when he’s more capable, when he knows more, he can help her. Maybe one day they’ll be able to leave this place, or maybe just that man.

A burst of wind slips by—it carries the scent of flora, fuzzy yellow ones that make his eyes water and the purpling blooms that his mother loves. The recognition makes his head turn, just in time to see you run past him, a clump of flowers falling from your grip. You don’t seem to notice, and they fall uselessly to the wooden walkway, inches away from Kinich’s pinky. 

He eyes the flowers curiously—the petals are so bright, yet dainty and thin. Then, he looks toward your rapidly disappearing figure.

And really, he doesn’t know why he cares. He should go find his mom and go home. His father will be there soon anyway, and that’s a whole different beast to contend with; he doesn’t have the time or energy to be concerned with you. 

So he doesn’t really understand himself when he grabs the flowers, pushes himself to his feet, and jogs until your back is within his reach. Another step, and then his fingers wrap around your wrist just as you yelp in surprise. 

The first thought he has when you turn to face him is that you’re quite pretty, and that you look to be his age—he shakes it away just as fast. Instead, he nods toward the bundle of flowers sitting in your arms.

“You dropped some,” he mumbles, opening his palm to you. It reveals a pile of crushed petals and snapped stems, and his face reddens in embarrassment. He hadn’t thought to be so careful in his rush to chase you. When he looks up, your lips are barely parted in surprise, and he awkwardly tugs at his collar.

“Ah, I’m sorry.”

He’s not good at this, he realizes instantly. Years of sticking to his own have left his social skills lacking, and he grasps blindly for something to say. Instead, you’re the first to break the silence—you laugh, a bell-like sound that he finds a bit cute.

“Wow, I must’ve been going pretty fast,” you say, head tilted. “Sorry about that! My momma used to say I run like the wind!”

Kinich tries not to get stuck on the ‘used to’ in your words, but fails—he wonders if you’re alone. It must be difficult, he’s sure, but there are some nights when the stench of alcohol grows too strong and the screams grow too loud where he wonders if it might be preferable. He’s thinking too long, and the silence grows awkward, so he forces himself to speak.

“What are the flowers for?”

It’s your turn to be embarrassed now, an awkward giggle escaping your lips as you shift your weight between your feet. 

“I was thinking about making flower crowns for the other kids in the tribe. They don’t really like playing with me lately, maybe ‘cause I’m alone, so I wanted to do something so we could all be friends again.”

Kinich doesn’t really get it—what would be the point of playing with someone who doesn’t like you? Something about the situation tells him it wouldn’t be the right thing to say, though, so he merely nods. You seem genuine, and while he may be socially inept at times, he’s not mean-spirited. Quietly, however, he notes that the stems of the flowers you have are too long—you’d have trouble making flower crowns with these. 

“Have you ever made crowns before?” he asks, doubtful. 

“Nope,” you answer honestly, “is it that obvious?”

Living at the foot of the mountain meant he had become much more familiar with the nature surrounding the tribe. His mother had been teaching him a few things lately, particularly related to farming and weaving. A flower crown would be simple work, certainly. 

He frowns. He shouldn’t do this, but you’re looking at him so expectantly.

“I could show you how—”

“Kinich!”

His mother appears just then, cheeks reddened and hair sticking wildly to her forehead. Various bags hang from her arms, evidence of her shopping, but she casts them aside in favor of grabbing at his wrist. 

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you! I thought you got lost, or even kidnapped! What were you thinking? You’re not usually like this!”

You vaguely think that the two look quite alike; he has her eyes, save for the purpling bruise that sits just underneath her left one. You’ve had similar ones from banging your knees on things, but none in a place so front-facing.

Kinich hangs his head, stepping away from you quickly. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

Shame radiates from his form in waves, so potent you can practically feel it yourself. You grab his other wrist out of instinct, and he raises his eyes to you in surprise.

“I’m sorry too, ma’am,” you say. The woman looks shocked, gaze flitting to where your hand joins with his. “I was clumsy and took up too much of his time. It’s my fault if he was late.”

Kinich’s heart flips, and he’s unsure why—maybe because he’s never had anyone defend him like this, maybe because he’s never had anyone defend him at all. His mother looks just as flabbergasted as he does, only returning to her senses when she notices the setting sun. She sighs, addressing her son again.

“Your father will be home soon,” she says, retrieving her bags, and Kinich visibly stiffens. “We should go.”

Gentle, he twists his wrist from your grip, quietly following his mother as she starts to leave. There’s a similar sadness to the hunch of their backs, as if they’re dreading returning home—you wonder if you’re imagining it. Kinich, you remember his mother calling him. You like the sound of it.

“Kinich!” 

He turns at the call of his name, so unfamiliar from your lips. You’re smiling brightly, holding up two of the flowers you’d picked.

“Next time, teach me how to make a flower crown, okay?”

/

His mother doesn’t speak as they make the walk home. He lets the wind fill the silence, whistling through the trees and carrying him with its lulling sound. It’s one of the few pleasures he finds nowadays when he retreats outside, skin purpling with fresh bruises.

They inch the front door open, tentative and wincing, half-expecting his father to burst out in a drunken rage—they’re only met with silence. Relieved, Kinich’s mother sets about putting away the groceries, and Kinich collapses into bed, letting his eyes fall shut as the sun dims outside. He tries to savor the last few minutes he has, distantly praying that his father might come home sober today. 

He thinks of the market, and then he thinks of the flowers. He thinks about the flowers, and then he thinks about them some more—a little longer than is natural for him.

Just as he slips into sleep, Kinich realizes that he never asked for your name.

[insertdisc5]

✨ The In Stars and Time Spoiler Q&A ✨

it's time. MASSIVE IN STARS AND TIME SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT. IT'S GONNA BE SO LONG. LET'S GO

I hope you are aware of The Secret Final Boss because I'm also gonna spoil the crab out of that. If you haven't,

1. Did you know the events for interacting with your souvenirs are randomized for some of them, and also change depending on how far you are in the game.

2. Did you know there's a way to show souvenirs to a certain character.

3. Did you know you can go back to Dormont during the Epilogue.

Figure that out, and come back here! Or watch a let's play online. You can also do that.

I will also try to adopt a ~mysterious cool voice with no exclamation points~ for Effect. Come with me on this journey.

Now. Questions time!

✨ Will you ever make a sequel to ISAT, or make a game in the same universe?

Nah. This was always intended to be The Story. This is your turn to imagine things now.

✨ But so what happened to the Country? What was its name? What about the wishes? What about the colors? What did Siffrin say as an openphrase to open the door to the King's room? What about--

I will not answer those. It's your turn.

✨ BUT THE COUNTRY AND THE COLORS AND THE WISHES

Ok fine. Here are some facts that I alluded to in-game, that I am confirming now.

-The Country disappearing and the events that made colors go away are not related.

-The colors disappeared a loooong time ago, which is why knowing they even existed is a relatively new find.

-A wish made everyone forget the Country.

I will ALSO say that ISAT's map operates on Final Fantasy/General Fantasy rules (i.e. in-universe locations are based off of real ones when it comes to culture, but are not one to one parallels, especially for geography), so no, the Country isn't based on the UK oh my god please do not say that to me again or im deleting ISAT out of your computers and putting legos at the foot of your bed. It's based on another place. You can figure it out, I believe in you.

✨ But why won't you give more info on what happened :(

Can you imagine if I did answer. Wouldn't that be a bummer, whatever my answer was. Sometimes things need to stay a mystery. And also, I don't want to answer <3

✨ Does the world Loop came from still exist after they left? Or is this a get mystery'd situation?

There is only One Timeline and it's the timeline that goes from the prologue to ISAT. Every timeline that gets rewound does not exist anymore, and that includes the prologue's timeline.

✨ What's the deal with Siffrin's dream at the start?

It's Siffrin's dream, but that doesn't mean our Siffrin is the main star.

✨ Is [specific missable game moment] canon?

Every moment that you personally experience in the game is canon.

✨ Is there a reason Siffrin remembers their name but the King doesn't?

What makes you think Siffrin does?

✨ At the very very end of the game, if you look out the window behind the Head Housemaiden, Sif mentions seeing an island in the distance. Is that his country?

It is. It's always been there, for the whole game. You can see it in the distance, too.

✨ Who was the King, before?

He was just a guy!

✨ With the King left remembering in the end, does that in any way change the redaction effect for other people in the world going forward?

That's a fun idea. Maybe!

✨ One thing that never really clicked for me is: Is the sweet smell Time Craft or Wish Craft? Or is the sweet smell TIme Craft and specifically the burnt sugar smell is Wish Craft? Other way around? Does this question even matter since without Wish Craft you can't attain Time Craft in the first place? (To me, yes.)

Wish Craft smells sweet. Time Craft doesn't have a smell per se, but it does do something.

✨ Does Mirabelle retain her immunity to being frozen in time after the events of the game or does it go away after the Head Housemaiden is saved? Or does it persist for a while and eventually fade away?

I imagine the immunity slowly faded away. But no one's left to do Time Craft, so it's a moot point anyway.

✨ How was Odile able to stop Siffrin from looping back during the fight against Siffrin?

In the Discord channel I stated that it's because "she's just that cool", but really, she does have access to some skills that heighten the efficacity of Rock/Paper/Scissors attacks, so it's not too much of a stretch to imagine she could lower the efficacity of Time Craft as well. In this last loop, while listening to Loop and observing, she could figure out Siffrin was looping way earlier than she could in even the Sus Quest, so she made plans. She is Very Smart <3

✨ Will you ever share everyone's full names?

That's artbook content <3

✨ In the ending, what happened to Siffrin's hat?

Flew away. It's gone now.

✨ Looking back at the original comics, and seeing how comic!sif has both eyes at the start of their loops, but in ending sequences is shown with his eye patch...did you ever consider making that concept of sif losing their eye a part of the main loop in either of your games? and if so, was there any reason why you decided against it?

Early on, I did think about making that whole event an event that happens during the loops, but quickly let that go since 1. it would be a pain to write and code (two different sets of Siffrin portraits!) and 2. if it happened, the player might want to look for a way to NOT make that happen and so 3. it would be a pain to write and code

✨ How was Siffrin's homelife before?

Pretty good!

✨ How old were Nille and Bonnie when they ran away? How old was Sif when their home got zapped?

Both were teens.

✨ How old IS everyone?

Siffrin is mid-late 20s. Mirabelle and Isabeau are early-mid 20s, with Isabeau being slightly older. Bonnie is a preteen. Odile is Too Old For This. Petronille, Bonnie's sister, is late teens-early 20s. You can ignore whatever I said in the prologue's artbook, whoever wrote this was Wrong!!!!!!!!!!

✨ Regarding the book that talks about someone who crafted a copy of themself using wish craft: is that meant to imply someone we know is the author (and/or the copy), or is it not directly related to any of em? or is it a "who knows ;)" situation where we can just speculate and theorize either way?

Please check the book again during Act 5! This applies to most items/map events by the way, like the pendant. You can check those during Act 5 and 6 for some fun new dialogue!

✨ Why are Siffrin's clothes so warm looking?

The Country got cold at night.

✨ What's up with Siffrin's pins?

They're made out of a special material. And also, they make Siffrin look cool <3

✨ I want to know the story behind Loop’s different eye shades!

They're blind in one eye. Also, fun foreshadowing <3

✨ What determines whether someone is paper/rock/scissors craft? Is it assigned naturally at birth or something else (and how do you find out)? Does it make you more inclined to use that specific craft or is anyone generally free to use whatever craft they want?

Astrology rules, It Just Is A Thing. Being Rock Type means it is way easier for you to do Rock Craft, but that doesn't mean you can't learn other types of craft, although it's way harder. Doing Craft of your type is instinct, doing Craft of another type would take some time and resarch.

✨What crimes has Odile committed before. I need to know.

Odile just smiles.

✨ Why did the King specifically target the House of Dormont?

I had a reason in mind, but adding it to the game would've added a layer of Explanation that really didn't need to be there. It's just a nice House.

✨ Who was Odile's hatecrush...

Dunno. It's your turn.

✨ What is loop's body situation. like is the surface of their "skin" solid? they did poke siffrin that one time, and we know they aren't cold, but...

I have some idea. But it's your turn!

✨ Would Sif still have looped if they hadn't made the wish he made in the beginning? As in, would Vaugarde's combined wish have made him loop until managing to beat the King?

No. But without time powers, you can imagine what would've happened next.

✨ During the Loop Hangout, how did the rest of the team make it all the way to The King? What about during Act 5?

During the Loop Hangout: with difficulty. During Act 5: Loop was there to guide them.

✨ Is Loop: 1. Actually comfortable with both he and they, but only gave the one pronoun to emphasize the distance? 2. Only using they/them because a large life event led to a shift in identity/ how they'd like to be perceived? or 3. time lops stole he from they they :(

Mostly that first one. But all three of those reasons have a bit of truth to them.

✨ Who cooked crab in the House of Change???

This is a very funny question! I've never thought about it. It's your turn.

✨ What are the Orbs that open the gate? Did the King create the Gate or was it there before?

(did not think about the orbs or the gate beyond "plot that proves there was a journey before") Stop Asking Questions,,,, It's your turn,,,,,,

✨ Bonnie's dialogue is *extremely* accurate to how overexcited kids talk, which is really rare to see. Was that something that took a lot of effort to achieve, or did it come naturally to you?

Thank you <3 I'm just that good. Really, Bonnie is an adult with no filter, and less general knowledge. I'm very glad I managed to write Bonnie well, especially since. I haven't talked to a kid. Since I was one myself

✨ The Spoilery Concept Art. Blease

oh yeah. here have it all. this is what I gave Mimi to do the animated trailer!

✨ So. What's everyone's favorite shade.

FINALLY the question. Plus I can say shade names now. White = darkless, Black = lightless. Light and Dark is like light grey/ dark grey. Oh my god I'm checking my notes and I wrote a small event I never used about hair dye colors like "midnight dark", "tomato grey", "snow light" past me that's so fucking funny

Anyway, Siffrin loves darkless, Mirabelle is more of a light shade lover, Isabeau loves that lightless (BECAUSE ITS FASHIONABLE OK), Odile likes darker shades, and Bonnie also loves that lightless (BECAUSE ITS AS DARK AS MY SOUL OK)

✨ Are there any bugs you found during developments that you've made into features?

Two! The first one was the ability to ask Loop to just silently hang out during Act 4. I messed up the code and the game softlocked there, with Siffrin and Loop sitting there silently. I thought it was very sweet. They deserve a little quiet time.

The second was in Act 5 - the House map had a lot of issues with the Act 5 map bringing you back to the normal House map. So one of the testers got brought to the normal House map and didn't notice, and interacted with the Mirror on Floor 3, and it gave them the normal interaction with everyone seeing the mirror and taking a picture, and when they went to look at the picture in their inventory, it gave them the actual Act 5 picture. A little bit after they realized the game bugged out, and told me about it, and begged me to keep that in because they were very unsettled by it. So here it is! Beforehand, it was just Siffrin silently taking a picture, so I'm glad I changed it.

✨ Did you ever have emotional difficulty writing the more sensitive parts of the script, like Siffrin’s intrusive/negative thoughts, for one reason or another? Moreover, did you worry the script may be darker than your initial vision for it anticipated?

Not really. The Mirabelle and Odile hangout scenes were the hardest scenes by far because I really wanted to get them right, but everything else was about the same amount of difficulty. And actually, I wanted to go a little bit darker for the script, but I was worried it was going to be too dark... When it comes to the dagger event, I had a whole tangent about Siffrin thinking about the best way to strike, so to speak, but I deleted it because it was getting A Little Too Detailed. T rating come back to me

✨ For the questions you WON'T answer, did you have your own answers while making the game? Or were they left blank?

Some of them I do, some of them I don't!

✨ I loved this game and I want to replay it but I don't want Siffrin to go through everything again!

Here's a little fun fact I decided: if you hit the credits, you helped a Siffrin escape. If you start a new game, you are creating a new Siffrin that you can emotionally tortu-IIIIIIII MEAN, a new Siffrin that you can help. Do not worry about your Siffrins they are fine

✨ A lot of those answers ended up being "It's your turn", huh.

Yea <3 The answers to some of those questions ARE there if you look. Some just aren't. But you can imagine whatever you want. It's your turn! I finished the game! I'm done working! It's your turn!!!

✨ I loved ISAT and it made me feel so many feelings!

Thank you so much. I'm sorry if you sent a message or ask and I didn't answer it. I read every single one and cherish it! Thank you for playing and thank you for writing me a message!!!!! When I get a little down I look at all of those and I feel better. Thank you. I'm sorry I can't answer them all.

✨ What will you work on next?

I have a project I'm currently in the preproduction stages of. I don't want to talk about it until I feel like I have some stuff to show. Plus I still have to make the ISAT artbook and some other stuff, so it won't be for a while. Nonetheless, I hope you will enjoy it!!!

[lemon-lime-behavior]

Do you have any tips for drawing noses? Sorry this is out of nowhere but I'm wanting to improve on my art, specifically the faces, and it's always the nose I find myself struggling most with.

I really struggle w making it fit the face if that makes sense? Every time I try to add it it just throws the whole face off, especially the eyes, not to mention how to make different nose types and the angles </33

I love your art style so bad, it's so smooth and satisfying to look at and the way you draw noses like it's nbd (and anatomy in general like damn) baffles me so I was just wondering if you maybe had any tricks or not, Ty either way for sharing your art in the first place <33

@extravagav Well I can try! First off thank you very much, I often feel like I still have a very long way to go in regards to proportions and anatomy so I really appreciate your kind words <3

Hokay, so, noses. I do love noses. To start off when it comes to drawing noses I'm afraid I'm going to have to give you the most annoying advice in the world which is just to practice a lot. Find a lot of pictures of noses in a bunch of different shapes from a bunch of different angles and just draw them until your brain melts out of your ears. Pay particular attention though to the nose as a 3D object!

It's of course trickier to do than I'm making it out to be but the more you practice at imagining the nose as a 3d physical form the easier it becomes to make a nose model in your mind that you can rotate like a microwave.

This is my personal very very basic understanding of the nose's construction:

it's like three circles and a taco shell.

Okay so now that you've got a basic understanding of the nose's construction, how to put it in the middle of the god-dang face??

So the funky thing about noses is that they tend to change shape the least out of all our facial features when we're making expressions. Our eyes change shape, our mouths move, our eyebrows, our cheeks, our jaws, they all go all over the place. the nose, however, tends to be pretty stationary and doesn't deform much (save in one important way I'll get to later). So because of all this, and here's my biggest piece of advice when it comes to making the nose fit in the face, I like to draw the nose first! I do a very loose head construction, draw the nose, and then sort of "hang" the rest of the features off of it:

Two very different expressions, same nose!

Now when it comes to noses interacting specifically with the eyes the greatest thing to remember is that the part of the nose that sits between the eyes sticks out farther than you might think, and will likely be obscuring one of them, the extent of which depending a lot on the angle and how pronounced the nose bridge is.

for someone with a pretty flat nose bridge you'll be able to see most of the eye except in a more extreme angle, while someone with a protruding ridge might obscure the eye entirely. but the nose will likely be interacting with at least one eye if we're not facing the character head on. Really making your brain think in 3d is gonna most helpful here.

Finally! The nose being expressive! So the main way the nose plays in to expression is by wrinkling. the muscles that pull up your top lip and the muscles that pull down the middle of your forehead are almost all connected to the nose, so the nose tends to develop a lot of wrinkles whenever brows are furrowed or teeth are bared.

Adding those wrinkles can add a lot of impact in the expression! And not just angry ones neither:

Sooooooooooooooo yeah! noses! They're weird and they come in all sorts of shapes and sizes and they can do a lot to add character to a face and they can also make you want to tear your hair out in big clumps! I'm still learning myself when it comes to noses (and most other things) and I'm faaaar from a master at it, but I hope I've been able to provide at least a little bit of help. If you do use my advice going forward please let me know! Good luck!!!!! (And here's all my nose "headcanons" for the strawhats. The ones who actually have human noses, anyway):

[haruchuiyo]

struck with love

the duke and you. will the relationship blossom into something more than just a friendship?

content: SUGGESTIVE! + regency au + duke!blade + duke’s daughter!reader (you’re not blades daughter!) + fem!reader + blade gets called yingxing + pining + second chance + heartbreak + groveling + make out + loads of kisses + fluff + jing yuan and the princess cameo (same characters from my jing yuan fic) + happy ending!!

word count: 11k (I got to into it but it’s a fast fast read I promise!)

hope you enjoy ><

—

The Duke of Stellaron.

This is the first time you’ve seen the man in the flesh aside from hearing about him. He was walking up from behind Prince Jing Yuan. He bows to the princess beside you before addressing Jing Yuan before he stands beside him, you give him a curt bow with a gentle smile.

“Your Grace.” You address him as he bows curtly back at you. Then you see how he looks between you and the princess. The princess immediately figured what was going on.

“Your Grace, this is my most beloved friend. The daughter of the Duke of Navalia.”

“My lady.” You can’t help the lingering look you give him. He’s a handsome man, quite stoic and almost devoid of any emotions except from the polite look on his face. As he chats to Jing Yuan, you see how he glances back at you and your eyes slightly widens when yours meet his crimson eyes before hastily looking away.

“So, Your Highness. How does it feel to have been crowned as a prince?” You throw the question at Jing Yuan who started to look bashful. You grin as you hear the princess, who’s also his wife, giggle beside you. As you grinned, you failed to notice a pair of crimson eyes laying their sight upon how your big smile lightens up your face, thinking how beautiful you are.

“It certainly feels weird.” Jing Yuan says and you hear the princess dramatically gasp from beside you. “That’s not what you said yesterday, my love. I thought you were ecstatic.” She lightly pouts and Jing Yuan immediately grasps onto her hand.

“Of course I’m ecstatic my heart, but I can’t deny it feels weird to be addressed as ‘Your Highness’ than the title of my military rank.” His voice was gentle and the way he kissed his wife’s knuckles softly, has you envy their relationship. Their love was truly so fated. As you glance away from their interaction, you look at the Duke who was quiet the entire time.

“How’s you stay here in Xianzhou, Your Grace?” You ask, feeling shy when you see him look at you. He gives a light nod.

“Quite different from the almost quiet life in Stellaron.” He responds, his reply making you giggle. You nod your head. “Xianzhou is quite-“ you pause as you think of a word.

“Lively.” You hear the Duke's deep voice. You look at him and nod in agreement. “Quite indeed.” You smile at him, finding him quite lively as well.

“Have you been to Stellaron, my lady?” You don’t know why you felt surprised he asked you a question about yourself, but you did. But you found yourself quite liking it.

“I have actually. Though I suppose you weren’t there.” You ponder on if you actually met him the time you visited Stellaron. “I’m sure I’d remember you if I was there.” He lightly chuckles.

“I feel flattered, Your Grace.” You grin at him and you missed how his eyes widened when you flashed him your big smile. Looking away from him, you see how the princess and prince started walking away, arms locked in together, chatting amongst themselves.

“It seems our pair of monarchs have left us.” You playfully sigh before holding onto a little bit of your dress to rise the gown up a bit, missing the way the duke’s eyes lowered themselves to glance at your legs.

“Let’s hurry shall we?” You ask the Duke as he looks at you for a moment before nodding his head.

—

After that day of your first meeting with the Duke of Stellaron, you found yourself enjoying his stoic presence. But he isn’t as stoic as you thought he’d be, he’s very lively in his own way. Randomly saying some sassy remarks which has you gasping and lightly swatting his arm, his arm he so offered for you to hold onto. Or if you didn’t know well enough, you’d miss how he is actually pulling jokes when he sounds so serious.

“Yingxing!” You waved at him as you lightly skipped away from the princess to him.

“My Lady.” He greets you with a smile you’d grown to love. “Ugh, not again! I told you to call me by my name.” You pout. You hear him lightly chuckle as you see him offer his arm to you. And then you hear him call you by your name, which makes a smile appear on your face, joy so evident.

Gratefully, you place your hand on his arm and you two start walking away from Jing Yuan and the princess, unbeknownst to you two, missing the way they look at you two with a knowing look on their faces.

“So tell me, why are you called Blade?” You ask. “I sometimes hear Jing Yuan calling you that, but never had the opportunity to ask why.” You explain to him and Blade sighs. You look at him confused.

“It’s a nickname I received during the military training, which I was so unfortunate to have at the same time as Jing Yuan.” He says and you giggle.

“Did you perhaps do something cool?” You grin at him and he lets out a breathy laugh.

“According to Jing Yuan and the others, me hitting bullseye ten times in a row with blades, was very cool.” He tells you and you gasp.

“Bullseye ten times in a row? Yingxing, that’s extremely amazing!” You squeeze his arms and he chuckles. “Well, if you say so. Then perhaps it is.”

“I’m sure you did many more amazing stuff with blades.” You tell him and he nods. “I did actually. I was quite proficient in using blades.” He remarks. “And swords as well.” He adds on and you giggle.

“I’m smelling some foul stench of flaunting here.” You tease him and he grins at you, which makes your heart flutter. He looks so much more beautiful like this than the stoic demeanour he always puts on. You look one last time at his pretty smile before looking away, pointing at some nearby big bird flying by, trying to ignore this butterfly mess feeling in your body.

—

The Princess was hosting a ball to welcome the new season. And here you were standing amongst the punch drinks, deciding wether you should pick the raspberry flavour or the watermelon one. Though the way the watermelon punch drinks was decorated is quite cute with the small bites of the fruit sitting atop the rim of the glass.

“I see you’re having a difficult time.” You hear a familiar voice which instantly makes your heartbeat go faster and the fluttery mess in your body go off again. You turn to look at him and as soon as you do, a lovely smile appears on Blade’s face as he softly says ‘hi’ and calls you by your name in that soft deep voice of his.

“Hi, Yingxing.” You say shyly, thinking of the way he greeted you.

“I’d recommend the watermelon one, it’s quite delicious.” At his words, you turn surprised then a quiet laugh bursts out from you. “Then I shall pick that one.” You tell him as you grab onto the watermelon punch glass.

“When you’re done drinking, may I have a dance with you?” You hear him ask and you felt streams of joy spread inside your body. This is gonna be your first dance with the man you’ve had the opportunity to get to know better over the past few weeks.

“You may.” You gracefully accept his invitation.

As you chat amongst yourselves, sipping on the last bit of your punch, you place the empty glass on a passing waiter's metal board. And as you do that, you hear the musicians change the music. You look at Blade, who then looks at you with his hand reached out.

He takes you to the dance floor. As you stand in front of him, you place your left hand on his shoulder and the other one holding his left hand. Then you feel his right hand on your back and you can’t help the slight shiver that comes up in your body. It doesn’t help the fact your gown is kind of backless and you feel his bare hand on the place between your neck and upper back.

You glance up at him then he leads you, moving to the steps of how waltz go. Left foot back, right foot to the side and step forward. The dance suddenly making you nervous by the close proximity, you almost squeeze your hold on his shoulder. You breathe deeply as you look at his chest instead of him, if you did that, he’d definitely be able to hear your quick heartbeats.

“Look at me.” You hear him softly whisper and you do. You do as he say and when you look at him, you wish you didn’t.

How dare he be so beautiful? How dare he look at you with those beautiful crimson eyes? The audacity he has to be so beautiful in anything he does, even in the way he is leading the dance.

“You okay?” He hear him ask and you smile. “Yes, I was just thinking about how we should do two more dances.” You say, lying through your teeth, feeling like you’d rather do this than tell him of your actual thoughts.

“Two more dances?” He asks, almost bewildered. “Yes, or perhaps, three more if you’d like it to be.” You grin at him as he sighs.

“My lady.” He says with almost a stern voice as he tilts his head.

“Your Grace.” You mimicked the way he said but a little more mischievously while also tilting your own head.

“Three it is.” He sighs out while smiling and you grin at him. “No chance to back out, Your Grace, it was you who invited me for a dance after all.” You lightly stick out your tongue to tease him.

He lets out a quiet laugh to hide the way he was looking at your mouth, how moist your lower lip seems to be after you stuck your tongue out at him. To hide the fact that if he leans in a bit closer, he could touch and taste you with his own mouth. He lightly shakes his head and leads you to the final part of the dance before the music changes.

The next two dances was more upbeat and lively, spinning and dancing with the other people in the ballroom before you went back to your original dance partner. As you do, the music changes, to a more intimate and slower tune and you suddenly felt nervous, feeling how your laugh from the previous dances dissipate when you see how Blade is wrapping his arms around your waist. And you know he didn’t fully place his hands on your body, but instead held his own hands and placed his intertwined hands on you.

His arms around your body does something to you. Streams of nervousness and also joy shoots up your body. You feel your hands tremble and almost sweat as you place them on his neck. You avoid looking at him now. Cause this time if you did, he would definitely hear how fast your heartbeat is.

You look at anywhere but his face, this time at his chest again, specifically the white shirt below his black suit jacket. You swear you could see his chest heave up and down quite harshly, his shirt straining against his body. Subconsciously, you slightly leaned your head forward and lightly breathed in his scent. He smells so good, like a man.

And then you still in your actions. Because you felt one of his hands press down on your lower back and lightly push you into him. Softly gasping, you look up at him to find him looking at you. You know that he saw what you’ve done by the way his eyes flickers all over your face before stopping to stare at your lips and you do the same. Your lips slightly part and you see how Blade subtly licks his mouth, his eyes turning almost hazy. You feel yourself almost squeezing his neck and him digging lightly onto your back with his hands.

When the music stops, it’s like you two got out of a trance and looked at each other with surprise evident on your faces. You hastily unclasp your hold on his neck, swearing you could see your handprint on his neck, but brushing it off as something your mind made up to scare you off. You back away from Blade, in turn making him lose his hold on your body, which you so dearly miss though you can sense a phantom lingering feel of his touch on your body.

“Your Grace.” You give a curt bow before walking away, not bothering to let him address you as well.

You walked hastily away, breathing heavily, you ignored your best friend, the princess, who called out for you in worry. You shake your head at her, brushing it off as some kind of problem with the heat and walked past her too before reaching a balcony far away from where the ball was hosted.

Reaching the thick marble fence of the balcony, you grip onto it as you breathe out heavily. You close your eyes as you soak in the summers night cold air then you think about how good Blade smelt, his hands on your body and the way he looked at you with such desire in his eyes. A strange feeling builds up in your abdomen and you try to fan yourself with your hand when you hear steps from behind you. Turning around, there’s the man who’s the object of your thoughts.

“Oh.” Is what you could say. You see Blade close the balcony doors before facing you.

“Care to tell me what that was about?” He asks, he didn’t sound gentle but almost frustrated.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.” You blabber off more apologies then your eyes land on his neck and you do see a faint hint of your hand print there. And you immediately take a step towards him, reaching a hand out to touch his neck.

“My apologies, I shouldn’t have squeezed your neck, I left a mark. I’m so sorry.” Feeling panic build up inside you as you touch his neck, feeling his skin on your fingers tips, a larger hand wraps around your wrist and you feel a hand on your lower back, pulling you in to him again.

“Your Grace.” You softly mumble.

“Yingxing.” He says.

“Yingxing.” You repeat softly, tears welling up in your eyes. “I’m sorry.” You tell him again.

“You’re not at fault at here, I did something too.” His voice is soft as you feel him rub on your lower back. His hold on your wrist loosens as he goes to hold onto your face. You lean your face into his touch, nuzzling into his palm, ignoring the way his breath hitches.

“I don’t know what to make of what transpired between us.” You hear him say and you dryly chuckle. “Me neither, but in my case, it makes sense to me.”

“What do you mean by that?” His brow are raised and he clearly looks confused. You smile sadly at him. You place a hand over his palm that’s holding your face.

“I have feelings for you.” You confess softly. Blades eyes slightly widens in surprise, he didn’t expect to hear that at all.

“Feelings?” He repeats, speechless.

“I’m in love with you, Yingxing.” You blurt out, seeing how he’s still shocked and quiet at your confession. “I don’t know when it started, but it did someday. I catch myself thinking about you a lot, I want a lot more from you. I want to be with-“

“I’m gonna have to refuse.”

“—you.” you finish your sentence then you comprehended his words. “Refuse?” Your heart beats fast this time, but for other reasons. Blade’s hold on your face and back lowers themselves to beside his own body and he looks at you with that stoic look you saw the first time you met him.

“Why? What—“

“I’m not interested in you like that.” He sounds so mean. So mean. He can’t mean that. This is not the Yingxing you got to know. Tears well up in your eyes and you miss the way his hands form into tight fists by his side. Vision blurry, you wipe your eyes but the tears are streaming down still.

“A ‘no’ would’ve sufficed but you had to add the part with me in it.” You chuckle, not being able to believe his words. He sounds rude. You wipe off the remaining tears with a nod to your face and exhale deeply.

“I understand, Your Grace. I’m sorry to have taken up so much of your time. Have a lovely night.” You give him one last polite bow before leaving him alone in the balcony.

Blade stood there alone, staring off at the view in front of him. He’d usually say something about it. With you. But now it looks bleak and gloomy. His hands still in a fist, he feels agonised. But he was honest. Yes, he was honest about his feelings. He does not feel the same way as you. No. He totally does not want something more from you. No no. He does not see a future with you. He definitely doesn’t miss your touch on him. Yes. He was honest.

Very honest.

���

He was lounging on the porch with Jing Yuan. Trying to bask in the heat of the summer, he cannot do that. He hears your laugh, the way your eyes shape into cute moon crescents and the way your nose scrunches up as you throw your head back laughing. His body itches to move towards you but he can’t. He remembers the time he approached you, he was met with a demeanour of yours he did not like. You were so polite, extremely so. Like you two never had conversed before this or that the night in the balcony didn’t happen.

Blade taps his fingers in a fast pace against the armrest of the chair he’s sitting on. He hears Jing Yuan groan from beside him.

“Can you stop that already?” He asks exasperated. “No.” Blade shortly says as his eyes follow your every move, how you run after your best friend in some silly game.

“You know, you could join them if you want to.” He hears Jing Yuan say and he stops his tapping to look at him. “What?” He asks.

“You can join them if you want to, Yingxing.” Jing Yuan repeats what he said. But all he could think of is the way you used to call him ‘Yingxing’ as well but now it’s ‘Your Grace’.

He hates himself for that.

“There’s no need.” He looks away from his friend to look at you once more and begins his tapping once again. He hears Jing Yuan sigh.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing.”

“It’s clearly not nothing by how my wife’s best friend, whose company you clearly enjoy, has been avoiding you like the plague.” Jing Yuan points out. Blade sighs. He can’t hide anything from his friend and his sharp eyes. He wasn’t a general for nothing.

“I rejected her.”

“What?” Jing Yuan almost jumped out of his seat. He looks bewildered at his friend. “You rejected her? I thought—“

“Enough. It is done and I cannot do anything about it now.” Blade cuts his friend off. Clearly knowing what he’s gonna say.

“You’re lying to yourself, Yingxing.” Jing Yuan starts. “There’s clearly ways to fix this.” He adds on.

“What ways? All I’m gonna do is hurt her again and again, and I don’t want that. Hurting her pains me.” Blade retorts with gritting teeth. “I felt agonised the day I refused her feelings. Seeing her cry, oh believe me, those blades my nickname is derived from, I wanted to hit a bullseye on myself more than ten times. It’s awful seeing her hurt. So no, I can’t do anything about this.” Now he’s gripping onto the armrest, feeling envious of the princess who gets to laugh freely with you. His heart aches.

“Yingxing, you’re in love with her, aren’t you?” Jing Yuan asks softly.

“It’s too late.” His voice wavered.

He sees Jing Yuan step up from his chair from his peripheral vision. Then feels his friend pat his shoulder.

“It’s never too late, my friend.”

—

Ever since the day you played a game of tag with your best friend the princess and saw her husband approach you two, leaving Blade alone. It’s like something switched in Blade’s brain.

He’s been there every time you needed help. Or anything of that sort. Small simplistic stuff like dropping your handkerchief, he’s there to pick it up and give you his instead of making you use your dirty handkerchief. But you refused that.

Or when you were going down the stairs and held up your dress but almost tripped, he was there to catch you. Though if you tripped, you’d land on grass not stone. You’d be fine.

So what’s wrong with him?

Just now, he’s ordering a dessert from the servant, your favorite, during an outing with the princess and the prince. You look at your best friend confused with your hands in a fist. She knows what happened, so all she does is shaking her head lightly while patting your fist softly. “It’s okay, just a dessert.” She had whispered.

It’s infuriating. It’s like he’s completely ignoring the wordless request of space you asked of him.

After a luncheon one day, you took a walk in the park with the princess.

“It’s hard to ignore him.” You sigh. The princess giggles. You look at her irritated. “I didn’t know my suffering was so fun to you, Your Highness.” You poke at her side making her giggle again.

“Oh it’s not like that, stop it!” She giggles still. “But why not give him a chance? He’s clearly trying to mend the pain he caused.” The princess softly said. You shake your head.

“There’s no point. He clearly said he is not interested in me. Me.” You point out. His words still hurt to this day. He had to add in the ‘you’.

“What if he has a reason. Did you ask him?” At her words, you quiet down. You shake your head lightly. “No I didn’t, but that doesn’t give him an excuse to hurt me like that.” You pout. You feel your best friend gently pat your cheek.

“He’s invited us over to Stellaron for a weekend, so maybe have a talk with him then, alright?” You sigh but nod anyway. Your best friend does have a point. Ignoring the man and acting like he’s nothing but just a Duke to you, won’t do any good. It’s just leaving the mess to slowly get bigger and bigger.

Switching to a different topic than just crying over a man who rejected you, you speak of something with the princess when you suddenly feel how the wind got so strong it blew your hat off your head, making it fly away. Your best friend gasps and you giggle as you run to retrieve it.

Then it dropped on the grassy ground near someone’s shoes and as you look up to see who it is, it’s Blade. The man who rejected you. Feeling your giggles and smile vanish, you see him pick up your hat for you.

“My lady.” He lightly bows his head. You nod yours. “Your Grace.” You gently say. You see him look at your hat before looking at you, then he hands it over. Taking it from him, you don’t miss the way your fingers brushed against each other and you held your breath before letting it out slightly when you put the hat on your head.

“Thank you. Have a nice day, Your Grace.” You give him a curt smile, feeling your heart ache as you walked away. Unbeknownst to you, the man who rejected your love for him, stared at your form longingly with an ache in his own heart. Little did you know, he saw your smile drop and your giggle vanish as soon as you saw him. He felt like his soul got crushed in pieces by a hammer and that same hammer crushed the pieces into more pieces.

To think he used to make you smile despite his stoic demeanour, the way a beautiful smile lightened up your lovely face and a beautiful laugh escape your pretty mouth. Just for it to turn polite like he was any other man of polite society.

He wasn’t honest after all.

—

Arriving at the Stellaron mansion after a day ride in the carriage, you’re exhausted. You step out from the carriage with the help of your footman. You walk towards the carriage your best friend and her husband is sitting in. As soon as you arrive, they walk out. You hastily grab onto your best friends arm as she startled in surprise.

“Sorry but I can’t walk up alone.” You whisper to her and she giggles. You hear Jing Yuan lightly groan.

“And now I can’t have my wife to myself.” He sighs in disappointment. You see your best friend swat Jing Yuan shoulder before he grabs her hand to gently place a kiss atop her gloved knuckles.

Then you look up and see Blade at the top of the stairs at the entry to his mansion. He looks good. So good, the suns beaming down on his hair beautifully, showcasing his blue hair. He walks down the stairs to greet us all.

“Your highnesses, welcome to the Stellaron mansion.” Blade bows curtly to Jing Yuan and the princess. They thank equally as grateful then Blade’s eyes lands on you. Heartbeat quickens in pace as usual in any proximity with that man, especially when he looks at you.

“My lady, I hope you enjoy your stay here once more.” He walks towards you, taking your gloved hand in his own, pressing a soft kiss atop your knuckles. Your breath hitches and you give an awkward smile, unbeknownst to how Blade’s hand stretched after he let go.

“I shall, Your Grace. Thank you for extending the invitation to me.” You give a curt nod and he smiles at you.

“Of course.” His eye lingered on you for far too long, you’d think he wanted to say something more but he looked away.

Then he leads you all up the stairs and you walk behind the men with your best friend, arm looped in with hers.

“Oh that man is enamoured with you.” You hear your best friend whisper. You frown at her. “No he isn’t, stop putting ideas in my head.” You shake your head and she giggles. “Oh so you have thought the same.” She does a ‘ohhh’ sound as she teases you and you just sigh at her.

When you arrive in the guest bedroom, you flop down on the bed and stare up at the wall. The maids in the bedroom arrange your suitcases and a bath. You tap your fingers on the mattress pondering on how to approach Blade and talk about, no, more like discuss with him. In a civil proper manner.

Then you sigh, not coming up with any ideas. Then you hear a knock on the door and you tell the maids you take care of it. When you open the door, you lightly get surprised.

“Your Grace.” You say breathily, not expecting him to be there. It’s as if he knew you were thinking about him.

“Just coming to ask if the bedrooms alright and to your liking.” Blade asks, his face looking expectant and you almost wanted to burst out into laughter but decided to spare your laugh for him.

“Oh yes, it is fine. Very fine indeed!” You tell him as politely as you could but probably failed miserably. There was a hint of amusement in his eyes as he nods his head. “Then I’m glad.” Is he all he says before he turns quiet and his gaze linger on you once more. It’s quite worrying, the only time he did this was the day you met him for the first time. But now he’s staring at you. Getting a little conscious, you let out an awkward chuckle.

“Was there anything else, Your Grace?” You ask him and you see how his face winces. You don’t know what for but you can’t be bothered to ask even if you want to.

“Oh? Oh. No, nothing.” Is not what he wanted to say. He wanted to ask if you wanted to take a promenade with him, show you the beautiful lake at the back garden of the mansion and the pretty swans swimming around or the lotus flowers blooming. His hands that’s placed behind his back is tightened into frustrated fists and when he sees you give him an awkward smile, he just can’t stand it. So he sighs.

He sighed. And you don’t know what to make of it. Growing almost annoyed at his sudden weird behaviour, you nod your head at him.

“Then I see you at dinner, Your Grace.” And you shut the door. Standing against the door, exasperated, you let out a deep exhale before you see how the maids are looking at you.

“Does the Duke always act like this?” You ask, quite curious as to what they would say. They looked amongst themselves, not sure if they should say it when one of them shook their head.

“It’s the first time actually, My Lady.” She said and you nod your head.

“It’s quite weird.” You mutter and the maids nod their heads as well.

“The Duke doesn’t like to stare, but he does always start a conversation with us to not make the current circumstances awkward.” A maid tells you and the other agreed with her.

“So he does have the ability to talk and not just stare.” You let out a breathy sound.

“The Duke has been the most gracious to all of us, My Lady. And he’s also never brought a lady here, not even chaperoned, which is kind of a wonder in itself.” And they all agreed in unison once more.

At the last bit of information, questions swirl in your head. Then no wonder, he’s never been seen by society much at all. Those who do catch him, are very few. Then he stayed in Xianzhou for far longer than he intended. Then one wonders why he did just that.

—

Putting on your necklace as a finishing touch, you realize you’re a few minutes late to dinner. Feeling embarrassed for having taking so long, you left your bedroom and hurriedly went downstairs. A servant lead you to the dining room. And when you arrived, the table was set quite closely and it fit four people just fine.

“Oh here you are!” You hear your best friend chime in and you let out an embarrassed giggle. “So sorry for the tardiness.” You say as a servant helps you onto your chair. You say a quick grateful thank you before looking at the men at the table and greeting them as well.

Jing Yuan greets back, complimenting how your gown suits you just finely while your best friend agreed wholeheartedly. Feeling bashful at their sincere compliments, you cover your mouth smiling then looking up to see Blade looking at you.

Or admiring you if you looked properly. It probably is just what your best friend said. He is enamoured with you because he clearly looks like it right now. Heat spreads around your body and your hands starts feel a bit sweaty.

“You do look beautiful, my lady. I agree with your friends here.” No idea on how to react to that, all you could do was smile at him and say a ‘thank you’ while your heart feels like it’s gonna run out of its place in your ribcage than beat out of it.

The food got placed on the table and in the meanwhile, you made eye contact with your best friend and she gave you a knowing look and mouths a ‘told you so’ while you roll your eyes at her which in turn makes her giggle, catching the attention of her husband.

Dinner went smoothly, the conversations was pleasant. And the topic of how the princess caught her husband in her father’s, the king, clutches was such a heartwarming story. After dinner, all four of you got to the sitting room and hung around for a little until the princess and prince decided to retire for the night.

As soon as they decided to do so, you decided to take the moment to leave as well, feeling nervous in Blade’s presence.

“I shall retire-“ you feel someone lightly hold onto your fingers from behind and your first instinct was to hold his hand back but denied yourself to do so.

“Wait.��� His voice was soft from behind you and desperate. You turn to face him and retrieve your hand back from his hold, which he furrow his brows at, like it’s agonising to not hold you.

“Do you perhaps wanna take a walk?” He sounds nervous, which is unlike him. You tilt your head to hide your nervousness and instead look confused. “It’s pretty late, Your Grace.” You say simply and he gives a slight smile, nodding his head.

“Yeah you’re right, but do you want to? Maybe we could—“ he ponders off on what to say next. “—perhaps talk?” He finishes off and you looked him slightly surprised but found yourself accepting his offer to walk.

—

He took you to the back of the garden, which was stunning even in the night. You can’t help but think to come back here in the morning, knowing it’d be double the beauty in daytime.

You managed to catch a bloomed lotus flower at the lake and couldn’t help but point it out to Blade, who was walking behind you all in silence.

“It’s so beautiful.” You say as you crouch down and look at the pretty flower, not bothering to look at Blade. “Indeed it is.” Which in turn made you miss the way he looked at you as he agreed at your statement.

You’re absolutely radiant in the moonlight, your gown looks like diamonds the way it’s sparkling in the dark. As you stand and continue walking ahead, your body looks like it’d fit perfectly in Blade’s arms. The way you gently fiddle with your hands as you walk, makes Blade’s own hands itch to hold them so you could fiddle with his hands than your own. Keep yourself occupied with him.

Under the moonlight, Blade sees you look up at the sky, at the moon with a small serene smile on your face. And that’s when he saw the lone stray of hair that fell out of place from your hairdo. Not wasting a chance, he reached his hand out and carefully placed it behind your ear then twirled it around your hairdo. All the while, he did not miss how your body was still in shock.

“What are you doing?” You ask, nervously but deeply.

“I missed you.” He ignores your question, which infuriates you. You harshly turn your head to look at him with furrowed brows and an annoyed expression.

“What do you think you’re doing, Your Grace?” You ask once again and Blade sighs. “I’m fixing your hair.” He says your name at the end and you clutch your dress with your own hands.

“It didn’t need fixing.” You simply say and walk away.

“Please, stop walking away from me.” He says from behind you, pleading for you to stop. You let out a humourless laugh but continue to walk. “Do give me a reason as to why I should stop walking, Your Grace. Maybe then I shall stop doing so.” You retort back.

But your body harshly gets turned around by how Blade grabbed your arm and pulled you against his body.

“Don’t do this to me.” You push at his chest but it’s to no avail, he’s much stronger than you. Somehow, he was quick enough to place his arms around your body and keep you caged in his arms. Maybe you’d appreciate it months ago, but you don’t do it now. It’s agonizing.

“Please listen to me. You at least owe me that.” He says and you scoff. “I don’t owe you anything whatsoever.” You glare at him, holding back tears. You feel his hands trail up your back to cup your face. As if it’s a pure instinct, your body nuzzles into his touch and you hate how much you love this. How much you love and miss his touch on you.

“I know. You’re right. You don’t owe me anything.”

“Then let go of me.” You tell him and he shakes his head.

“I already did that once and I won’t do it again.”

“What’s so different this time, Your Grace? You sound like you might return my feelings this time.” At your words, he stills. As if in a moment of clarity. You look at him and scoff once more. Taking the moment of his stillness, you push him and walk away.

“Leave me alone. I know that face. That’s the exact same face you did the day at the balcony. I’ve been refused once by you, can’t have it happen once more, can we?” You huff out a laugh, finding it absolutely ridiculous. Refused by the same man, twice? Maybe you should take a dive into the lake, it’s definitely still cold. As you were nearing the mansion, it starts to rain. About to hurry in, Blade grabs you by the arm again.

“Why don’t you just listen to me?” He asks loudly over the pouring harsh rain. His wet hair sticking to his skin and the raindrops streaming down his face.

“Last time I did that, you said you were not interested in me like that!” You yell from over the rain. “I'd lose it if I get rejected by you once again, Your Grace. So no, I won’t listen.”

“Then let me explain, please I beg you.” His grip on your arm was tight, you swear you’d get a bruise by it my morning. “Then explain yourself.” You tell him.

He was gonna speak up, but then he sees you shiver. And he sees how strongly he’s holding onto your arm and he lets go immediately. He instantly takes his suit jacket off and places it around your body.

“I’m fine, Your Grace. The mansion is just a few meters away.” He shakes his head, refusing to heed your words. You sigh out, letting him do what he wants this time. When he properly put the jacket around you, even tied the arms into a knot as if it would fall off anytime.

“Let’s get back inside, you’re shivering.” He says and grabs your hand. You stumbled just a few steps as you walked. Then just a few second later, you were up in the air, facing the back garden and smelling the familiar scent of Blade’s natural scent and in his arms. He’s carrying you. Then you feel him tuck you against his chest as if to shield you from the rain even if you’re already soaked through.

Arriving inside the mansion, you hear the surprised and worried voices of the servants and Blade ordering them to prepare a warm bath for you. All while he strides up the stairs, with you still in his arms. And all you could do was hold onto him as if he was your safety net. At some point you found yourself almost burrowing your head onto his chest, feeling safe and content in his arms, his scent surrounding all your senses.

Then you were put on a chair in your guest bedroom. The servants hurriedly prepared the bath. One gave you a blanket then hurried to help her colleagues prepare the bath. You didn’t realize that Blade was still in the room when he had spoken up.

“You may leave this room, I’ll take care her.” At their dukes surprising orders, all the servants could do was bow their head and dismiss themselves.

Then as you sit on the chair, you’re ignoring him. But he knows just how to make you look at him. So he does that. He kneels in front of you, which does make you turn and look at him confused.

“What are you doing?” You ask but lightly gasp when you feel him grasp your leg gently.

When he slides your soaked dress up your legs, you feel extra conscious of your close proximity. He stops sliding your dress up when he reaches the hem of your stockings. Heavy breaths escapes your mouth and your hands tremble on your lap.

“Hold onto your dress, my love.” He softly says, lightly startling at the name he used for you but you did what he said nonetheless. Dress now bunched up and held in place by you, your stocking covered legs are on full display. This act feels intimate to you and it is for sure intimate. But knowing how he feels about you, you don’t know what to make of this. Should you be happy he’s giving signs that he care for you or should you beat yourself up over the fact this may be an act of kindness, not cause he may return your feelings.

He places your heel clad feet on his knee, unties the string connected to your shoes. He looks at you time to time and sees you breathe heavily, your chest rising up and down with a lovely expression. Your eyes are on him, lips parted in shock and the expression tells him you’re surprised to see him do this. Have him touch you. To see the Duke of Stellaron on his knees, helping you. Though you two are of the same social standing. You’re two unmarried people in a room alone together without a chaperone.

He takes your heel off your foot and you can feel his clothed knee even through your stocking. You clutch onto your dress on your lap as you see him touch your stocking softly. Gentle as if you’re a precious doll. Your heart beats fast but it aches. How can he do this after the rejection. After the arguing.

Your breath hitches when you feel him touch the hem of your stocking and slowly slides it down your bare leg. You grab onto his hand midway, shaking your head.

“Why are you doing this?” You softly ask again. He shakes his head. “If you stay in those soaked clothes a moment more, you will catch a fever. So I’m helping you out.” At his words, you turn speechless.

He manages to slip down the stocking and gently puts it on the armrest of the chair you’re sitting on. Thinking about his words and how they’re bothering you, you feel him touch your bare leg, sliding a finger up and down your skin as if he’s mesmerized. You turn quiet and watch him still. He’s confusing. Extremely so.

To work on the other stocking, he gotta grab your other leg. Blade feels happy doing this. Helping you out. The thought of you catching a fever itches at his skin. He doesn’t like the thought of you feverish and in pain. Then if you do catch a fever, you’d have to stay in this mansion until you get better. That thought doesn’t seem so bad to Blade.

Grabbing your other leg, the feel of your bare skin on his fingertips is entrancing. Feeling how your stocking slide down your pretty bare leg and revealing more of your skin, it makes his thoughts wander further and further. Further to were those legs lead up to. Up to your thighs and if he just spread your legs a little and bunched up your dress on your lap, he’d see the apex of your thighs and he almost felt lightheaded. Your scoff burst his little thought bubble of you. He looks up as he finally slid down the entire stocking of your leg.

“Helping me out, you said.” You say, scoffing once again. “It’s ironic, Your Grace.” To hear you address him like and not by his name, he physically flinched.

“You aren’t helping anything at all. Wasn’t our argument just a few moment ago not helping?” You ask him, astonished.

“You’ve been acting so weird ever since the day you rejected me. Your Grace, it’s not been a week since that day, it’s been months. Surely you have seen how you’ve behaved towards me.”

“You’re speaking as if I’ve acted in an evil manner towards you.” He says almost offended and you let out a humorless laugh.

“You don’t find it evil how you been at my beck and call, doing things a man who courts someone does after rejecting me evil?” At your words, his heart shattered. About to speak up, you beat him to it.

“It hurts.” He sees your eyes glisten up in tears as your voice wavers. “It hurts so much, here.” You place your hand at the spot of your heart. His hands trembles, itching to touch you, to hold you.

“I’ve given you my bare heart just for you to refuse it, then now you’re behaving as if you never rejected me.” Tears fall down your face, Blade hates seeing you cry like that. How many times he’s probably done that, he doesn’t wanna think about it.

“Why did you reject me?” You ask and Blade stands on his knees and holds your face gently. He wipes your tears off with his thumb.

“I have no other reasons than just that I don’t want to be in a relationship. I can’t. I’m scared.” His answer infuriates you, but at least he’s honest. Brutally so. You lightly scoff though there’s tears streaming down your face.

“Then why still make me think you might feel the same after the way you’ve behaved? Why give me hope?”

“Because I realized too late.” His words now confusing you. Realizing too late about what? You see how his eyes flicker all over your face and how his grip on your head feels almost rough. “Realized what?” You ask, confused.

“That I love you. I realized too late that the moment you smiled at me you’ve had my heart ever since. I still loved you the day I rejected you. That’s what I realized too late about.” You’re speechless. Not knowing what else to say, you feel his thumbs rub your cheeks gently, he flashes you a sad smile.

“It was stupid of me to do that. The day you walked away from me after almost losing your hat, that’s when I knew.”

“How?”

“Because at that moment, I didn’t make you happy. Your lovely smile didn’t appear on your pretty face. Your eyes didn’t almost glimmer in joy. The thought of you unhappy, it ate me up from the inside.” His voice is wavering and you feel his hand on your face shake.

“I wanted to run after you that day at the balcony, but I thought it was too late. There was no way to mend what I had caused.” His eyes well up in tears and you look at him stunned.

“I’m so sorry. I hurt you so much, I shouldn’t have said i wasn’t interested in you. Because I am. Every day I imagine a life with you, every day I long to touch you, to hold your body in my arms and cage you in and keep you to myself. Everyday I want to see you smile and hear your pretty laughs. A day without you, it was tormenting me.” A few tears fell down his face and you immediately go to wipe it off.

“If you had just said that to me that day at the balcony, we wouldn’t have to do this.” You tell him and Blade looks at you sadly, truly regretful.

“I’m so sorry, baby, I shouldn’t have said those awful words to you.” He shakes his head as he earnestly looks into your eyes, truly apologetic. “I am in love with you, most ardently. A day without you is torture, it’s way worse than the Mara that’s been found lately at Xianzhou.” He bemoaned, which makes a tiny giggle leave your mouth. You see how Blade’s eyes lightens up at the sound, watching your mouth expecting more of that sound to come out.

Him staring so shamelessly at your lips, has you flustered and you were about remove your hands from face when Blade, in a haste, put his own on top of yours. He shakes his head, looking defeated.

“Don’t leave, please?” He pleads and your heart races. “I’m not gonna leave, I just felt nervous at the way you were staring at me like that.” You mumble out and Blade’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Why are you staring at me so much anyway? And you always sigh too.” You lightly pout and Blade flashes you a bashful smile.

“Because you’re bewitching. One look at you, it gets me in a trance.” He explains. “But that don’t explain the sigh.” You try to ignore the fluttery mess of your heart at his honest confession of his staring.

“Because it’s absolutely outstanding that someone as enchanting as you is walking on this earth, with mere mortals.” He says and you giggle. “That sounds ridiculous, Yingxing.” You shake your head at his silly words. As you shook your head, you look down at your lap and see how Blade is situated in between your thighs. The position looks quite…scandalous. Your bare legs don’t help it either.

“I love it when you call me that.” He tells you and you nod your head. “Feels better to hear that than my title.” He adds on and you chuckle.

“Now that I know, I might call you that if you wrong me again.” You tease, saying the words in a lighthearted way but Blade turned serious.

“I will never wrong you again, my love. I stand by that promise.” He is saying it like it’s some knightly honour, which is endearing. “That’s impossible, we’re bound to come to disagreement but we shall talk it out than leave it be.” You tell him. He nods his head in agreement.

“Wronging you is something I stand by not ever doing again.” That was final and his sincerity makes you shy.

“The water is getting cold, the servants stressed to prepare this for me.” You shyly mutter out and Blade nods his head. He leans his head in to nuzzle his nose against yours. As Blade was about to pull away, he sees how he’s seated inbetween your thighs and he gulps on air.

You also saw where his eyes went and you feel how his hands moves down to your thighs. As if dazed, he places his bare palms on your skin and you lightly sigh at the touch. As he runs his hands up and down your thighs, he traces his nose down below your face, when he reaches your neck he breathes in your scent there. “You smell heavenly, my love. I can’t get enough of it.” You hear him groan against your neck as his hands squeeze your thighs and your hands clutch onto his shoulders.

“Yingxing, the water.” You manage to breath out and Blade immediately pulls away. His face is flushed and his hair a mess. You let to go off your hold on his shoulders.

“You’re right, I shall leave you alone as you bathe. Call for me when you’re done, yeah?” He’s so gentle. He’s now softly holding your neck and strokes his noses against your own before pressing a kiss on your forehead. His actions leaving you completely stunned, all you could do was nod and you were alone in the room.

You took your gown off and entered your peach scented bath. Then you remembered Blade’s confession, his touches and the way he caressed your legs. You touch your legs as if remembering his touch then you feel embarrassed before soaking your entire body in the bathtub.

—

Putting on a nightgown after your bath. You pace around the room for a moment. Debating on if you should go sleep and pretend to forget Blade told you to call for him. Then how can you call for him anyhow? You’d have to go to his bedroom personally.

At that thought, you get a sudden realization and your body flushes in warmth. Going to his bedroom at night feels nerve racking but at the thought of being alone with him, makes you feel elated.

You were tiptoeing outside your room, mindful of your surroundings but somehow not catching there was a door ajar, seeing what you’re doing. As you were walking down the hall barefooted, you realized you don’t know where his bedroom is. You sigh to yourself for your stupidity and was about to walk away when you hear footsteps from down the hall.

A tall figure emerges and your eyes lightens in joy at seeing Blade.

“Hi.” You softly whisper and he smiles at you like you hold the world. “Hi.” He greets you back and softly takes your hand in his.

“Remembered there’s no way for you to call for me than going to my bedroom, so I came to check up on you.” He whispers to you and you muffle your giggle with your unoccupied hand, nodding in agreement.

“Come, let’s go back.” He says, dragging you to the direction your bedroom is. You stand put, not following along. As Blade sees what you’re doing, he turns confused but when he sees you shake your head slightly when placing your other hand over your intertwined ones, he understood.

—

He gently leads you into his bedroom and you feel all sorts of emotions at once. You see him light the candle by his desk then turns around to face you. The room being lit by only the candle with you two in it, your heart definitely skipped out of its place.

Blade is looking at you, it’s like his crimson eyes felt darker in the candlelit room and you decided to do anything else than look at the man.

“So…” you start off as you walk towards his bookshelves in the room, pretending to examine the titles. “You read books!” You chime awkwardly and Blade looks at you amused.

“I do, I’ve told you that before, my love.” He softly tells you as he starts to approach you. Your widens and you quickly speak up.

“No, stop right there!” You exclaim then quickly cover your mouth for being too loud. Blade stops walking instantly, confused as to why you told him to stay there.

“I—why?” He tilts his head and your breath feels almost like it’s staggering.

“It’s the proximity.” You tell him.

“Proximity?”

“Yes.” You nod your head.

“Or is it me?” Blade sees your lips part in surprise before you slightly nod your head. His heart flutters at the thought of you being flustered in his closeness. He takes a step forward and he sees you back slowly against the bookshelf, he smiles at the sight.

When he got close to you, finally, he softly tugs on your hands before clasping them together with his own. He brings them to his lips, kisses the top of your fingers gently, all while keeping an eye contact with you. Your breath staggers and you wet your lower lip.

“I was honest in everything I said today.” He mumbles against your hand and your eyes slightly widens. He smiles again. “I know it’s hard to believe me after I rejected you so cruelly that day.” You shake your head.

“I do believe you.” You softly mutter, loving the way he kisses your fingertips. “I’m happy that you do.” He says before he unclasps your hands to cup your face. He backs you against the bookshelf, making you tilt your head to look at him. He leans down, pressing his forehead against yours.

“I wanted to kiss you since our last dance.” He mumbles and you sigh as you rub your nose against his. “Do you still want to?” You shyly ask and he chuckles.

“Oh my love, such an obvious question you’re asking me.” He nuzzles his nose against your cheek before you feel his mouth pressing open mouthed kisses on your face except the place you want them to press down against.

“Then kiss me.” You whisper before you felt a pair of soft lips upon yours. You sigh into the kiss as you trail your hands up over his firm chest to hold him by his neck.

His lips moves so softly against yours but his grip on your face is tight and desperate. When you feel his tongue in your mouth, you gasp into the kiss at the same time as you squeeze his neck. He takes the moment to nibble on your lower lip as his hands moves down your back to place themselves them on your waist, his fingertips close to your backside.

Then he takes your mouth in another kiss, teeth clashing against each other in a desperate and hungry attempt to kiss deeper and deeper. He continues to kiss you as if he hasn’t had enough until you had to pull away, breathless. Blade is panting himself but can’t stop himself from reaching your mouth again and press kisses on the corner of your mouth down to your jaw to your pulse point, all of that making your grip on his neck tighten and soft moans leaving your lips.

“So this is how it feels to kiss you?” You hear him breathe out, chest heaving up and down. You let out a small chuckle. Blade noses the spot between your neck and shoulder, before trailing chaste kisses down your throat to your collarbone, breathing in your scent. All while grabbing onto your thighs, as if in reflex, you pull your thighs up and he automatically lifts you and pins you against the bookshelves. His hands are now below the material of your nightgown and you can’t stop the constant sighs and soft moans that escapes your mouth with the way he’s pressing kisses on your skin.

As you wrap your thighs around his lithe waist, you feel Blade’s hands close to the inner parts of your thighs and you still in surprise. Your hands reflexively gently push his chest and he stops his kisses on your skin.

Blade sees your widened eyes and he feels where his hands wandered to and his own eyes widens as well.

“I wasn’t supposed to go that far.” He says almost if he got caught for committing a very heinous crime. You lightly shake your head, your hands clutch onto his shirt on his chest.

“No, it’s okay. I was just…shocked. That’s all.” You reassure him softly and he nods.

“I won’t do anything you won’t like.” You hear Blade say and you smile at him, genuinely. Your heart feels full of love for him. When Blade sees you smile at him so lovingly, he can’t help but kiss you on the mouth for a few moments more.

“You haven’t done anything I’ve disliked.” You mutter against his mouth during the kiss. You feel Blade smile against your lips, then you feel his hands that are still on your thighs, squeeze you as if he liked the words you just said.

You feel how your back isn’t pressed against the bookshelf anymore, but rather pressing against nothing, so you immediately wrap your arms around his neck. Then you realize Blade is walking with you in his arms, towards the bed. Then you lightly flop down on the mattress from when Blade gently released you.

When Blade sees your hair splattered across his pillows, your nightgown sliding up your thighs with your legs lightly crossed. And with the way you look up at him with such pretty eyes, he loves it. He loves the sight of you on his bed, at his mercy and now in between his arms as he caged you in on the bed.

Then he kisses you all over your face in a haste, making giggles and bunch of soft ‘stop, it tickles’ go past your pretty mouth. He loves this too. Being alone with you, having you all to himself as he gets to press his mouth against anywhere on your soft body. And when he feels you hold his shoulders and your thighs wrapped around him, he feels at ease and fulfilled. Life couldn’t get any better than this.

“I love you.” You hear him say. His voice so soft and gentle, so in love and awe to be able to say these three words to you. You heart just cannot stop beating faster and faster, body heating up even more at his words. You softly nod your head, then you feel him lean down to nuzzle his nose against yours, muttering the three words again and again.

“I love you.” You tell him back then he kisses you on the mouth, saying ‘i love you’ with the way his lips moves against yours leisurely and in unbridled joy.

—

“It’s okay, you can leave it here.” You hear muffled voices from beneath the blanket and you feel the sun beams on your face. You snuggle up closer to the blanket, sighing in content at the familiar scent of Blade on the blanket. You smile sleepily against the material before you feel the bed dip beside you. You turn around and see Blade look down at you with such a soft way in his eyes, full of love.

If it was possible for your body to flush in warmth all the time around this man, your body would be constantly in that state.

“Good morning, my dove.” He leans down to press a kiss on your forehead. You pout and shake your head, puckering your lips and you hear Blade giggle. Then you feel his mouth upon yours and you smile into the kiss. Your arms go around his neck and you push his entire upper body on yourself, feeling his entire weight on your body but you love it even though he’s heavy.

“Good morning, Yingxing.” Blade can't get enough of the way his name leaves your lips. The way you say it, he loves it. The day he won’t hear his name past your mouth, he’s a dead man.

“Let’s get up, it’s morning and there’s breakfast for you.” You nod your head at his words and you feel his hands on your hips before he moves you up against the headboard of the bed and makes you sit up straight. You giggle at the way he manhandled you and he presses a soft kiss on your mouth.

“Did you sleep well?” You ask as he hands you a sandwich. He nods his head as he softly runs his hand down your hair.

“I missed out on a lot of the times you weren’t asleep in my arms.” He grins as you giggle, feeling him put a strand of hair behind your ear. “Don’t tell me you stared at me as I slept.” You look suspiciously at him and he puts his hands up as if he got caught.

“You can’t blame me, you look absolutely beautiful as you sleep.” He tells you. You pout. “I drool when I sleep.” Blade chuckles. “Then I be there to wipe it off for you if you do.”

Your heart flutters at his words and you shake your head embarrassedly. “You and your silly words.” You tell him as you take the last piece of sandwich in your mouth. Blade rubs your mouth, wiping off crumbs then eats the little crumb himself.

“Only you will hear those silly words, my love.” He tells you and you playfully groan. “Oh no, that’s torture.” You cover your face as you grin. You hear Blade laugh as he then climbs up on the bed to hover over you on the bed.

“Oh, then this won’t be torture then?” He asks. And you uncover your face, wondering what he means. “What won’t be?” You ask him back.

Then he kisses you.

Oh this is definitely not torture.

—

Your arm were looped in with your best friends as you two take a stroll in the back garden of the Stellaron Mansion.

“So, what’d I tell you?” You hear your best friend chime in amusedly and you lightly roll your eyes. “That he was enamoured with me.” You repeat her words and she nods, proud of herself.

“And he most certainly is, he can’t stop looking at you ever since you two got out from his bedroom.” She emphasised ‘his’ which makes your eyes get big and you look at her surprised.

“You knew?!” You almost shriek and she giggles. “I saw you two at night, tiptoeing and whispering around then he dragged you to his bedroom.” The way she described it is funny to you, so you can’t help the laugh that escapes your mouth.

“He didn’t drag me. I was the one who asked him to take me there.” You tell her and your best friend oh’s entertained and you giggle at her antics.

“I didn’t know you had it in you.” She lightly pushes your shoulder and you shrug your shoulders playfully. “Well, I did learn from the best, didn’t I?” You whisper to her and the princess laughs. If one has to know, your best friend the princess, sneaked down to her husband, former bodyguard of hers, bedroom after a ball.

“Alright, let’s go back, I can feel Bladie’s stare on us millions away.” Your best friend says and you giggle. Because he is indeed looking your way. When you see him, you wave and he waved back. He is so endearing.

—

“I will court you properly and ask for your hand once we get back to Xianzhou. How does that sound, my dove?” You hear Blade ask from below the steps to the carriage.

“I love it.” You smile at him as he takes your hand in his and kisses your knuckles softly. He wished he kissed you on the mouth but with so many watching, he decided to spare it for another time.

As he lets go off your hand, you take your fan and unravel it.

“Come closer.” You whisper to him, Blade looks confused then he feels you grab by his collar before covering the view of your faces to everyone with the fan. Then he feels your soft lips on top of his and he smiles. He feels most wholeheartedly happy. You giggle against his mouth when he leans back in to kiss you more when you lean away.

“Okay, no more.” You tell him and he lightly pouts, looking saddened and you pat your hand against his cheek.

“You get to kiss me as much as you want once I’m your wife.” At the mention of you being his wife, his eyes lightens up. He takes a step closer to the carriage.

“And I’m your husband.” He whispers before pressing one last kiss on your mouth, making you lightly gasp and him grin happily.

To think you’d make such a stoic man get so soft around you, is astonishing but you love it.

—

phew! thanks for reading it this far, hopefully you liked it ><

please leave a like and reblog if you did, that would be most appreciated! <3

[tealvenetianmask]

Thoughts about Striker being a "supremacist:"

On the surface, he's sort of a social class activist/ Robin Hood archetype. I think he truly thinks of himself this way. But when Blitz calls him a supremacist, who's he a supremacist against exactly? It's imps. This guy hates imps (and also identifies as one, even though he's clearly some sort of hybrid, which is interesting).

Let me show you what I mean. The short version is that he's the self-hating minority bigot trope, and it's executed really well.

"Blue Bloods"

"Disgusting, rich, pompous goetia"

"Some of us have everything we care about taken away by fuckers like you."

"You don't get to talk over me. . . all you ever do is try to talk over us."

"Once I split your neck open and let you choke on your own blue blood, you won't be worth any more than the tomb stone you'll be buried under."

So . . . first, he doesn't actually say a lot that's solely about royals, and ALL of the quotes above are about how royals look down on people like him, NOT about any inherent flaws that they have. They're about class, not race, unless you count "blue blood" as race. I don't. It's tied directly to money. "Disgusting" comes up in reference to Blitz's relationship with Stolas, but the words "rich" and "pompous" follow immediately. Striker hates royals because he hates that society places them above him.

Imps

"Pathetic."

"You little things aint worth the cleanup."

"Oh I remember how easy you are to choke the life out of, little one."

"Blitz, come on. You know the two of us are superior to most of our kind."

"I still think it's embarrassing. You're wasting a lot of potential relying on a weak little . . ."

"Vermin"

I think that this is where Striker's worldview comes into clearer focus. He thinks that Moxxie and Millie (and by extension MOST imps) are inferior to him. The word "vermin" is particularly telling. There's something visceral about his disgust for "lesser" imps.

I think Striker worries that they reflect who he really is. I think he truly believes that imps are inferior to higher class demons, and he fears that if he doesn't prove himself to be special (through violent dominance), he's vermin himself.

Notice how in the image below, his edge over Moxxie is all about size and physical strength- the things he implies throughout the episode make him the superior being. Look at that wide smile. He loves the feeling of being superior.

Relationships between imps and royals

"You are so above sucking on a disgusting rich pompous goetia . . ."

"kill the unkillable . . . starting with the one that treats you like a plaything."

"Blitzy"

"You two are both embarrassments to our kind for meddlin' with blue bloods to begin with. But at least loud mouth here has the sense to only fuck his rich bitch, instead of being a little purse dog."

"This worthless little pet reeks of his over bloated master. I'll at least enjoy getting rid of him."

Striker clearly sees these relationships as imps lowering themselves. It doesn't seem to occur to him even for a moment that these relationships might involve genuine care because he sees all interactions between social classes as being about power and "who wins."

Notice that despite in theory caring about the power dynamics, Striker puts most of his shaming language on the imps in the relationships, and uses demeaning language to do it- "embarrassments, purse dog, little pet," as if they're at fault (for being used, in his view . . .?) and should be ashamed.

I thought about delving more into why Striker sees Blitz as closer to his own level, and I think it comes down to the things he values (physical strength, willingness to kill, detachment/independence), which are not the things that we the audience end up liking the most about Blitz. He misses the point of what actually makes our boy great, basically. 😍

I've spent a lot of time reading and watching videos about real life white supremacists because I like to be miserable, and . . . yeah, this character really shares their view that some people are inferior to others, and that the traits that make them inferior are inherent and immutable. The people he hates just aren't the ones he'd have us believe he hates.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hello! Someone genuinely trying to understand and perhaps unlearn some reactionary tendencies. With the response to that anon about "not asking if you're a pro or anti", the response about "imagine if they put this much effort into protecting real kids" definitely got me thinking. So... Is an adult shipping children and finding that hot NEVER a red flag? Or is it case by case on seeing how that person handles the distinction between fiction and reality in other things? And bringing the issue of real kids into it, if a real kid who has been abused sees someone shipping kids and finds that a red flag in that person, that... No, no I juicy answered my own question on that one. Block them and cultivate your own experience.

hi there anon, and congrats on trying to unlearn some things! and great job catching yourself at the end there, that's exactly correct.

I will start by saying this right out of the gate: fundamentally, I do not really give a shit about what made up scenarios about fictional characters people are jorking it to in private. I am, first and foremost, interested in how they are interacting with actual, real people.

"but Makenzie are you saying people who look at sexually explicit images of real human kids should be allowed near children?" no I'm not. please note that I was specifically talking about people engaging with fictional characters who are, you know, not real and do not have feelings and therefore cannot actually be hurt, traumatized, abused, etc, in any way that actually matters. I want to be so clear about this: you can genuinely think whatever vile things you want about fictional characters. you can enjoy any problematic shit you want with little guys who don't actually exist.

like, here's an example I use a lot: I'm kind of a huge Batman fan. don't know if you could tell that or not, I'm pretty subtle about it. if you spend any time in the Batman mythos, you know that this is a story where you just kind of have to take for granted that our hero is a billionaire using his vast wealth to dispatch vigilante justice with military grade weaponry and a small army of child soldiers and cop friends to help him put people in prison. these are moral quandaries that are discussed and acknowledged within the story, but fundamentally the universe is always going to involve billionaire vigilantism and child soldiers and the so-called carceral justice system. that's just the price of admission if you're gonna read Batman.

and like. I spend a lot of time in that world. I love Batman, I love his child soldiers. he's my little blorbo or whatever. but like, at no point have I said "yeah, fuck it, preteens should be learning martial arts to fight domestic terrorists, actually. I think Elon Musk SHOULD be allowed to put on a fursuit and beat up criminals. cops need more funding." no amount of Batman comics can make me believe or act on any of those things because, you know, I'm a person with a brain and I know the difference between "thing that makes a good story" and "thing that should actually happen for real."

and the thing is that genuinely, honestly, if someone thought that it was a red flag that I like Batman, and that enjoying Batman comics was somehow a red flag indicating that I'm fine with violence being done against real, actual children? I would think that person was a nut, if I can be super real. like, I'm thinking about somebody trying to make the case that I shouldn't be allowed to hang out with my nephew because I enjoy the fictional character of Robin so clearly I'm going to kill my nephew's parents in front of him to try to get him into vigilante justice. or if someone attempted to bar me from teaching my 4th-6th grade sex ed classes on the grounds that I was obviously going to teach them to do karate to clowns instead of how their reproductive systems worked.

(although, lets be real, there are a lot of politicians who would MUCH rather let little kids cage fight each other than learn anything about safer sex.)

this doesn't just apply to morally bad things, either, btw. I also read a lot of romance novels, especially hetero romances. and the thing is, not one of those books has made me want to fall in love with a ruggedly handsome but condescending straight man. hell, none of them have made me want to fall in love with anybody, period. that's not really something I'm interested in for myself, it's just a fun and frequently funny dynamic to explore. I'm hardly the first queer person to point out that the allegations that queer media "turns kids gay/trans" is obviously bullshit since the vertible mountain of cishet media evidently failed to turn any of us straight/cis, you know?

my point being: no, I genuinely don't think it's often, if ever, reasonable to judge someone's actual, real life morals by how they interact with fiction.

I'm going to say something so vulnerable right now, because we're in a safe space here: since you asked me this very reasonable question, you evidently value my judgment and perspective at least a little bit. and I once read and thoroughly enjoyed a fic in which Dr. Horrible, from Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog, gets fucked by a sapient evil horse. and I don't think that makes me a morally reprehensible person, or a person who advocates for real human beings having real sex with real horses. I think it just makes me kind of a weirdo with a bullshit tolerance.

if you want to hear a MUCH more thorough take on this, complete with addressing the issue of shipping fictional children, I cannot recommend Princess Weekes' video essay enough:

[zeroducks-2]

What's up with batman and the erasing of queer history? Sry I try to interact with fanon as little as possible

There is no simple or short answer to this but to try and not make it a wall of text - Batman/Robin has always been a staple of the queer community, so much so that to this day there are "brudick" graffiti in big cities and lots of older gay couples have been using them as a reference for solid partnership which endures in spite of adversity.

Originally there was no indication anywhere that Bruce and Dick were in the roles of father and son, rather they were partners against crime, one the shadow of the other, and they would share everything both when it came to crime fighting and in their everyday lives. They're shown sleeping together, going on lake trips together, finishing each other's sentences and Dick being viciously jealous every time Bruce would "replace" him with any of the women he used to have flings with such as Talia or Selina.

Did DC mean for them to be read as a queer couple? No, of course not. Bob Kane and others wrote a partnership, an unbreakable bond which would allow these two men to overcome any obstacle together, and queer people read into it as queer people always do.

Someone else read into it though: Frederick Wertham, who called Batman a pederast and used Batman and Robin as an example of how the evil comics would corrupt young minds to send them on the way of perdition and sin. He wrote all of this and many more infuriating shit in his book Seduction of the Innocents, which was then the major influence in creating the Hayes Code, which is the reason why we never had queer characters in comicbooks and movies and anything really for decades (and we're still struggling today).

Wertham and the Hayes Code did not stop the queer community from loving Batman and Robin though, therefore what started happening was the more subtle shift towards Bruce and Dick having a father and son relationship rather than a partnership. You can see this clearly with Jason Todd for the first time: Bruce takes Jason in and treats him as his own son, the narrative calls them father and son, and there is no doubt in the mind of who's reading that Bruce perceives Jason as his child. It all went steadily downhill from there.

Nowadays, writers have Dick say character assassinating things like "I love you dad" to Bruce, Tim saying "we will save our dad" to Damian, and everyone in the fandom acting like this has always been the case and actually you're weird and you should be sent death threats for shipping Brudick, because "UMMM that is literally his son?!??!?!?". DC has been pushing the idea that these folks are a nuclear family for a while now, but whoever has actually read the comics knows it's not the case, and it used to be very different before.

Brudick, among queer people, used to be entirely uncontroversial. While Wertham raged about how it corrupted the minds of young men and the Hayes Code prevented queerness to be anything but vaguely hinted and coded in the text, queer folks didn't care and kept having matching Batman and Robin shirts.

Today queer people will call you a pedophile and a groomer and try to doxx you for posting Brudick art because apparently they're doing the fascists' job for them, either because they are genuinely misguided or because they think that if they're enough morally pure they will have a spot among the chosen ones, hell if I know. What I know is that they'd suck Wertham's cock and balls if he wrote Seduction of the Innocents today, and it's DC's fault too with their erasure of every found family dynamic among the batclan, and the way they've been pushing the idea of a "batfamily" instead, in which everyone has a strict role of son or brother or father, and shipping them makes you the antichrist.

[elitadream]

When we think of Mario and Peach's chemistry in the games, any rescue scene is usually what comes to mind. But there's one bit of Mareach interaction I just had to talk about because it's honestly one of my all-time favorite moments with these two.

The introduction sequence of Luigi's Mansion 3.

We see our characters on a bus ride, and the two of them are sitting side by side. Peach appears to be laughing at something Mario said, and they're both having a great time. All goes smoothly until Toad swerves to the right, causing the passengers to lose their balance and bump into each other.

It takes them a second to steady themselves, and the first thing Mario does as he opens his eyes again is glance at Peach with a smile. But it's not his trademark grin. His expression is quite softer than usual, and meeker too.

Even rarer still: he then lets out a timid chuckle. Something I've personally never seen him do in any other game. He's being shy, bless him. Not openly flustered or delighted, but actually shy.

And what does Peach do? She returns his smile with a bright and gleeful "Yahoo!". An all too characteristic exclamation that she has undoubtedly borrowed from him over time.

It's a very small and brief moment. But OMG does it say a lot about their dynamic.

It captures everything that I find so very charming and endearing about their unspoken affection, and it's a very good example of how I imagine those calm and blissful moments between them to be like. The moments we never see as players, but which are surely there as well.

I wish there was one instance where we got to fully see what a pleasant and peaceful day was like for them. But if this is the closest thing we're ever going to get, then I'm okay with that.

Because this scene alone is downright adorable and it makes me very happy. 😊💞

[gayraeofsun]

i just really want to scream about this movie into the void because it was so well done, and i doubt anyone will really see this but i don't really have anyone i could have a deep discussion about this with.

trigger warning and spoiler warning ahead for the movie blink twice. content ahead discusses themes around sa, including r*pe, drugging, manipulation, and general physical/verbal abuse.

i don't keep up with any previews or recent movie releases much anymore, so i was going into this movie almost completely blind like i do with most new movies anymore. i had seen one preview, but it was apparently plain and simple enough for me to mostly forget about it. the irony in that will be made known a bit later on.

the movie automatically opens with a screen that displays a trigger warning, which is something that i had been seeing for the first time in any kind of visual media. normally these things are already listed by the ratings, but as a sa survivor who had no idea what this movie was going to be, it was a good thing to see so i could brace myself for what was to come. do i think this is necessary for any and every movie of this kind? no, it feels a little redundant (again, these things are typically included in the ratings). and, well, asking me to not watch if it would upset me is kind of a no deal, since i paid for a ticket and popcorn to see this on the big screen.

we're immediately introduced to our two main characters, two best friends, and it's hard to not immediately fall for their relationship with each other. so playful and silly and ridiculous, you can immediately tell they adore each other's company in their shitty job living in their shitty apartment, and you can tell that they're written by a woman who loves these characters and wants to portray them as relatable people. the interactions between the whole cast of girls, i think, was just outstandingly done. they felt realistic, not constantly shitting on each other and fighting for the attention of the men (though some jealousy of that fashion is still portrayed). they were all there enjoying the island and they ended up bonding together wonderfully. they were funny without being over-the-top rude or nasty or promiscuous, as is portrayed commonly in female characters in popular media. i can't and won't stop gushing over how much these characters felt just like real life girls that i was hanging out with.

this movie was really great at putting a pit in your stomach and slowly making it grow. of course, the trigger warning at the beginning spoils what's to come, so for me the pit was there from the start. any sensible person who's been socialized to be a woman will know, you don't ever just run away with some random ass group of men you don't know to the middle of nowhere with no cell service. but the little things that make the main character, frida, stop and question are so subtle, and so easily dismissed to start with. the used lip gloss in the drawer, the available clothes despite being an "unexpected" guest, the weird cleaning staff. but they increasingly get more odd. the island is full of venomous snakes and they all have to be killed on sight. something about these flirty interactions isn't quite right anymore, and he's talking about repressed memories. what day even is it? why am i always waking up with dirt under my nails?

who even knows or cares though, since we're all high and/or drunk 24/7. welcome to paradise!

it builds and builds until it begins to unravel, slowly and then all at once as the girls come to the realization of what happens to them every night when they get unbelievably high after dinner. the bond between the first two to piece it together was outstanding, and i love that there wasn't a cheap "find the phones and call authorities" plan. they worked out why that wouldn't work at all, because who would they believe? the "hysterical bitches" making claims without any kind of solid evidence, or the rich white man who's now a reformed soul and probably good friends with some of the cops?

the ending is not a happy one, in my eyes, though i believe it was probably supposed to be portrayed as one? two girls live and three girls die by the end. the ringmaster (ceo) of the whole thing ends up accidentally taking his own forgetfulness juice and suddenly doesn't understand what's going on and why all his friends are dead or have been otherwise brutalized. he knocks over lit candles and then trips and knocks himself out in his stupor, and the island burns down, the photographic evidence (that was later discovered) and all. i thought it was just going to end there and we would be left with the ambiguous ending, and that's never satisfying and feels very overdone anymore.

but instead, we're given a scene where our main character is now the ceo of the company, and legally married to the man who lured her away and horrifically abused her. twice. i interpreted this as her getting her own form of justice/revenge. i doubt she gives him half the treatment he gave her, but now she controls him and everything he owns and knew, and gets every bit of respect she wants. he killed her best friend and two other girls after overpowering the lot of them every single night. in a perfect world, he'd get tried and punished for his crimes legally. but all the evidence of it ever happening burned to the ground. so this is what she does to cope. in the final scene, she seems very satisfied, more than pleased to make her new husband's old crew squirm. she becomes the thing that destroyed her and so many others (but yk, most likely without the rapist cult).

one character i very suddenly grew interested in was the scrawniest boy in the group. he flies perfectly under the radar and doesn't appear in many of scenes that portray the gruesome sa. the one where he's in clear view, he appears to be another victim, trying to flee from one of the bigger men and receiving a black eye, which he would have no memory of getting the next morning. he's told by one of the girls that he smells nice, most likely referencing the perfume that was making them forget everything. it seemed very clear that he was in a victim role here as well, likely also being sa-ed. but he's never seen bound and gagged with the girls.

his final scene gets interesting when the ceo berates him for doing nothing to help the girls the entire time (yeah, the same ceo millionaire who's been basically orchestrating this whole sick fucking show in his perfect little getaway island). how he thinks there's a special place in hell for people who sit and do nothing in the face of evil. there are two very different ways to interpret this. 1) he wasn't actually getting drugged and abused with the girls, and was there as someone who didn't actively participate in abusing the girls, but also didn't do anything to try to stop it either. this could be blatant commentary on the two types of evil; while "not all men" r*pe and abuse people, not enough men will speak out against it or try to run to the victim's defense. or 2) the ceo was casting blame onto someone who was genuinely confused as to what was happening (which seems to ring true in both scenarios), and someone who was also a victim and stuck in a completely helpless situation. both could hold some level of truth, but ultimately i read him as the latter, thinking he was meant to represent the less common male victim. he gets killed by one of the girls, who wasn't specifically targeting him but also wasn't taking any chances, and that's the last we see of him. in my eyes he could either be read as the kind of evil that merely observes and therefore was rightfully murdered, or he could represent his male victims often get forgotten about or less acknowledged, which could speak as to why he was killed off so quickly never to be discussed again.

and i've gotta say, one thing i really appreciate about the scenes depicting r*pe is that it put a lot of the focus on the r*pists and not their victims. they were careful to not show any nudity or any shots of the women getting r*ped, but still showed them getting forced down when they tried to flee. i have not personally seen any other graphic scenes of this nature in other movies, but from what i hear a lot of it can get rather pornographic, and i feel like that's incredibly distasteful when you're trying to depict something that's absolutely vile. this movie does a great job of getting the absolute terror of the moment across without compromising any of the actresses by posing them seductively or showing off their bodies, and same goes for the men (if you don't count a couple of them being shirtless).

the writing is so wonderful, and the little clues as to what's happening beneath the surface are so good and plentiful. this is a movie that i don't think i'd ever be able to sit through again, but the sense of dread that continued to grow and grow will surely stick with me. it was very darkly funny in many places, which did great to break up some of the tension. for anyone who was able to stomach it, i would highly recommend watching through it once you're able. i think it was outstandingly well done and handled certain things as well as it could without watering any of it down.

[sailorblossoms-rankane]

I've been thinking about how Ranma falls for Akane. It's definitely her smile, but it's also everything about the way she approaches him: friendly and considerate, taking him away from an uncomfortable situation. From their first interaction, it already says she's on his side

Virtually every character Ranma meets challenges him to a fight. The way it goes down communicates a lot, so it stands out that only Akane's offer is friendly. It's not a challenge, revenge, hostility, or competition. This is Akane offering to connect through the thing she knows they have in common.

Nobody approaches Ranma like Akane does: with friendliness, consideration, and a no stakes competitivity. The fight is our first glimpse at Ranma's insane skill level, and Akane is the only one who reacts to a loss with a laugh, because with them fighting is connection

By offering this connection, Akane is essentially welcoming Ranma to her house and her life. Their fight also foreshadows part of their dynamic: their fights are a form of communication. No one riles Akane up like Ranma. He'll always go after her (the fight literally ends with him behind her, reaching out to touch her).

This is a comedic scene but I think there's something about them both being so exposed on their first meeting. They have nothing to hide from each other – literally (iirc Ranma is always covered at least by water from the waist down, but Akane is seeing everything lol)

Speaking of exposure: they practically show their worst, least palatable sides to each other right from the start... and they're still not repelled (like they are when their other suitors show them their worst).

Also interesting to compare Ranma's first fights with their other suitors to the one with Akane. They're unserious clownery: Ranma kicks them (misunderstanding or attempts at de-escalation). But he only poinks at Akane with a finger. It's soft, tender, and reinforces connection.

Right from the start, Ranma cares about not being rejected by Akane. When she does, it doesn't have any weight: it's not that she really hates boys, she's just tired of being harassed (we get the reveal that every morning she has to fight the boys in her school – who try to beat her to date her – pretty much in the next chapter). "We're not friends," she might say, but she immediately confides in him and essentially lets him look at her heart.

Everything about the way they fight from the start is established with an undertone of connection, a pig tail-pulling sort of camaraderie. Through their fights, we see how similar they are. When the fight is with an outsider, they work as a team. It's them against the circus.

When her smile makes his heart speed up (distracting him so much he doesn't see the ball coming) he's already jealous and worried about his feelings being unrequited. The hints of Akane being/becoming his best friend and supporter have already been laid by the time her beauty is highlighted.

bonus:

Akane grabbing Ranma by the pigtail is a constant throughout the manga. It's hilarious, but also: only she is allowed to do this... And the fact that it happens in the first couple of chapters highlights how quickly Ranma connects with her/trusts her

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Chapter 6 - I've Been Searching for a Fortified Defense

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: As we begin our first 5-digit word count chapter (I can’t be stopped, someone take away my keyboard) and I find a stride of about two chapters per week, I want to say that: A) I fully intend on finishing this story. I plotted out the whole thing before I started, have made a few adjustments given the pacing I’ve done so far, and with how it’s broken down right now we’ll reach the end in 2-3 months. B) Thank y’all from the bottom of my heart for reading! If you have theories or thoughts or feedback please don’t hesitate to share them! I love hearing what you think of the plot and the characters, and every interaction means the world to me. Whether you’re only reading or leaving comments as well, thank you so damn much. I’ll see you next chapter (it’s gonna be a doozy) <3

Chapter Title from Bells in Santa Fe by Halsey.

Word Count: 11.2k

Chapter Summary/Warnings: You throw a punch, and Phase One: Operation Quick and Bald goes. Not well, but it goes. Contains usual warnings.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, enemies to friends to lovers, canon divergence, slow burn, fluff, angst

Read on A03!

Chapter 5 - Chapter 7

Taglist: @lordofthunderthr @kritara

Want to be tagged? Just ask!

Ben dodged the third punch in a row, grinning widely right up until the fourth one landed on his face.

“Ha!” She yelled, drawing back to shake her first out. “Take that, you weirdly fast man.”

Ben rolled his eyes, rubbing his face lightly. It hadn’t hurt—he’d barely even felt it—but She was being real fucking smug for someone who’d only just landed a hit after a damn week of attempting to do so.

“Yeah, sure, Sunshine. Keep it the fuck up, and at this rate it’ll only take you another couple thousand years to surpass Muhammad Ali.”

She raised her brows at Ben, pausing with a tilt of her head. “You were a fan of Muhammad Ali?”

He nodded, giving her a scrunched look of annoyance. “I’m a fucking American, and there ain’t nothing more red-blooded American than punching commies like that son of a bitch did.”

“What?”

“When he fought the Russian, and won. That’s fucking American.”

“Ben, you’re thinking of the plot of Rocky IV.”

“No, Muhammad Ali fought that Russian pussy and kicked his fucking ass.”

“No, Sylvester Stallone fought the Russian pussy and kicked his fucking ass. In a movie.” She laughed to herself. “I’m shocked you even saw Rocky IV, let alone were so impacted by it to let the plot override your knowledge of a real life person.”

“Shut up,” Ben grunted, moving his hands back to a defensive stance. She fucking always won these stupid arguments, and Ben couldn’t actually prove it, but he knew She was changing the fucking internet she loved so damn much to match her claims. “Go again.”

“Someone missed nap time.” She muttered under her breath, even though she knew Ben could fucking hear her, but put her fists up anyways. “Can this be the last one? I’m hungry.”

Instead of answering, Ben just launched himself at her, and She jumped to the side with a yelp.

“What the fuck, Ben!”

He turned and threw another punch, feeling pleased at the smooth way she ducked away and met it with a punch of her own. Her face had lost the pissy shock, laser-sharp concentration replacing it. Her eyes were narrowed, darting across Ben as he moved, her bobbing and weaving wasn’t entirely shit, and her heart was controlled with her breathing. She landed her second punch, this one on his shoulder, and Ben laughed, delivering one of his own.

“Christ, Sunshine, you’re fucking weak.” He laughed, examining Her carefully for any loss of control.

“I’ll kill you with my bare hands, Bitch.” She growled, lunging forward and grunting in frustration as Ben dodged with ease.

“That’s my line.” He taunted. “And you couldn’t even kill a man with an assault rifle if he was a fucking foot away from you.”

“Blow me.”

“I’ve been fucking trying- Fuck!” She landed her third punch, and it burned. Ben reached to touch where she’d hit and felt the skin mending across his jaw.

She was grinning in a wide, toothy, satisfied way. “Suck on that, cunt.”

“Bitch,” he muttered, looking down at his hand to see it raw and red from the contact with his face, with some of his fucking hair stuck to it.

“Did you burn off my fucking beard!” His head shot up to see a half-sheepish, half-amused look on her face, lips curled and eyes wide.

“Oops.”

He yelled her name, and she had the fucking nerve to giggle. “We said no fucking powers!”

“I forgot.” She said lamely, her face less and less apologetic by the second, giggling again as she offered some of the most insincere comfort Ben had ever heard. “It’s not even that noticeable! You look just as good as before!”

His anger faded, and he gave Her a cocky smirk, raising his brows. “You think I look good, Sunshine?”

“I’m being nice. Don’t ruin it.” She muttered, her face adorably flushed, and Ben didn’t miss the skip of her heart.

“Whatever keeps you up at night.”

“That’s not the phrase.”

He winked. “I know.”

She scoffed and turned away, but not before Ben could see the slight smile on her lips. “I’m going to shower, I’ll meet you in the living room in fifteen. If you’re not there, with food, I’m eating the TV.”

Ben frowned, calling after Her figure moving down the hall. “Has the TV been edible this whole fucking time and you didn’t fucking tell me?!”

Her laughter echoed back down the hall. "You're real fucking gullible, grampa!"

“You know I can’t fucking tell when you’re joking about that shit, you bitch!”

“Fourteen minutes, cunt!”

“How the fuck am I supposed to make food in fourteen minutes?!”

“You’re a big boy, you’ll figure it out!”

Grumbling a string of cusses Ben hoped She could fucking feel, Ben grabbed a cup of instant noodles and threw them in the microwave, wondering if She would notice if he spit in hers. After pulling them out, grabbing two spoons from the counter that he almost immediately bent, spilling one of the cups as he noticed the damaged utensils, spilling the other when he noticed the first spill, and having to start the whole damned fucking thing over, Ben made his way to drop on the couch next to where She sat, wet hair clinging to her pretty face.

“Heard a lot of swearing, Pretty Boy, everything ok?”

He grunted, shoving Her noodles against her chest and letting go, not giving a fuck if she had a grip on them. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Just asking a question,” he could hear her shit-eating grin. “Thought it was a free country. Thought a patriot like you would appreciate me exercising my first amendment right.”

“That protects you from the government, not me.” Ben parroted back the words She had yelled at him after he’d made the apparently fucking fatal mistake of saying “first amendment right” in her presence.

She chuckled, her voice teasing. “Didn’t know you were capable of retaining information about something other than yourself.”

“Well, your tits were looking great while you were bitching. It helped.” He grabbed the remote, raising it to the TV. “I made food. I’m picking what we watch.”

“If you pick Game of Thrones so you can watch the sex scenes again, I’m figuring out a way to kill myself and doing it on your bed.”

“Whatever gets you in my bed, Sunshine.” He winked. “And I’m invested in the fucking plot, it’s not just the sex scenes.”

“It’s mostly the sex scenes.” She said, not even flinching at his flirtation. “Just go watch porn. See how fast you can break the fleshlights. If you do all three in ten minutes, Butcher owes me twenty dollars.”

Ben scowled, not enjoying that She’d apparently been making fucking bets with Butcher about his masturbation. “I can last longer than ten fucking minutes, I’m not a fucking pussy.”

“Prove it.”

He grinned widely at Her as her face flushed adorably, her own phrasing catching up with her head. “I’d be honored, Sunshine.”

“You’re like a fucking rabbit in heat.” She muttered. “And if you do last longer than ten, Hughie gets the money, so keep that in mind when you’re jerking it to dragon boobs after I go to bed.”

“The dragons don’t have any fucking boobs, dumbass, the fucking hot lady queens do.” Ben said smugly, ignoring her eye roll. “And I would ‘jerk it’ in the privacy of my room, but someone won’t give me a fucking phone.”

“Yeah, the CIA. I’d actually back you up with Mallory, Pretty Boy. I think giving you a phone would be really entertaining.”

“I don’t need your fucking help.” He snapped, and she laughed.

“Can’t rely on just a handsome face to convince her that you somehow deserve the internet.”

“Handsome face?” He grinned at her, and only the slight stutter of her heart told Ben she heard him.

She made a mock face of thought. “Maybe if we suggested parental controls…”

“I’ll kill you, bitch.”

“I’ll make you the most useless and sad eunuch to ever grace this sorry planet, cunt.”

Ben glared at Her, and she reached over his arm to press play on the remote.

Most of the days since the failed Sister Sage mission had been like this. She and Ben got up, trained, ate, trained more, and then watched TV with dinner until She retreated to her room and Ben fought sleep for the rest of the night, alone. Neither of them mentioned how he’d saved her, or how She had started a habit of slapping Ben awake—he was pretty fucking certain that at this point she had figured out another way to break through the nightmares but was purposely choosing to fucking hit him instead—before she’d sit next to him for an hour or two after. Ben liked this unspoken arrangement, and liked even more how She had silently agreed to it. Just because he didn’t actively hate Her right now didn’t mean he was about become a sniveling pussy mess about feelings. Even if the lack of active hatred had morphed into something pulsing in his chest that he didn’t understand, and didn't fucking want to. Making Her instant noodles and not killing her when she lied to him for fun or called him “Pretty Boy” was as far as Ben would bend.

It had been mostly radio silence from the Boys, though Butcher and Cocksucker had visited two days after they’d dropped Her and Ben back at the safe house, as Cocksucker had managed to break his arm. There had been a long, incredibly boring and poorly told story as to how the injury had occurred, involving a supe, Nikola Tesla and something called a Cybertruck, but Ben had pretty much tuned out the entire fucking conversation once he realized they weren’t here for him at all. The only thing that had kept him from retreating to his room for the duration of the visit was the small falter in Her heart when she touched Cocksucker, her jaw clenched as Ben and Butcher watched Cocksucker’s arm heal into place in a fucking disgusting manner.

When She’d let go, she’d given Ben a weird fucking look with tight lips and sad eyes that he'd only seen before on Cocksucker. It had passed quickly, her face returning to apathetic and bored, her eyes regaining the sharp amusement they usually held, but fuck it had confused him. She and Butcher had started talking about missions and planning and other mind-numbing shit, Cocksucker shaking out his arm as if he didn’t trust that it was healed, and Ben had needed to piss and gone to do just that. Before he’d left, he’d caught Her a look of where the hell are you’d going, he’d grinned back with a wink of why, you want to join me?, and she’d rolled her eyes and returned her attention to Butcher. When he’d returned, Butcher and Cocksucker had left and She was glaring at him, arms across her chest.

“Are you an idiot, or just a dick?” She’d snapped.

He’d frowned at Her, trying to figure out what had made her all fucking bitchy. As far as Ben was concerned, he’d been fucking amazing, only calling Butcher a pussy twice and managing to refrain from talking to Cocksucker at all. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Butcher told me we’re moving on operation Quick and Bald soon. He told me you knew. Why didn’t you fucking tell me?!”

“Oh,” Ben had rolled his eyes. “I forgot.”

“You forgot?”

He’d shrugged. “Well, you fucking know now, so get over it. And what kind of fucking shit codename is Quick and Bald?”

“Fuck you, it’s an accurate and descriptive name.”

“How the fuck could that be ‘accurate and descriptive’?”

“Because two key factors of this phase of my plan are the quick and the bald.”

“Your plan?”

“Yeah, my fucking plan. That I fucking deserved to know the status of.” She’d scowled. “Butcher says it’s almost ready. He’ll get us in two days once it’s in place.”

That had been five days ago. Starlight and Cocksucker had dropped in after two days, full of apologies and updates that Ben didn’t give a fuck about, and when he’d asked Her for more information about the plan, she’d told him to “suck her dick and shove his questions up his ass until they reached his brain.”

So Ben still had no fucking clue what Quick and Bald was about.

Aside from Her lingering anger at him for apparently having the fucking nerve to ask questions about the jobs he had to do—an opinion he had made the mistake of voicing, leading the unwelcome lesson on the first amendment—She was being impossibly easy to talk to, and Ben was getting dangerously close to not only enjoying her company, but finding her comfortable. Part of him was hoping she’d say something very, very soon that would allow him to grip onto hatred, or at least indifference, for the rest of his time in this stupid fucking situation.

Instead, in a way that made Ben think God himself was out to fucking get him, he’d started to tell her things. Fucking voluntarily.

One of those nights where sleep had gripped his head and pulled him under, struggling and roaring, he’d woken up once more from only the force and sting of her hand across his face. She’d sat next to him again, and he’d asked her more questions about before, all of which she’d answered with a faraway, insufferably sad look in her eyes.

“How many siblings did you fucking have again?” He’d pressed once.

“Four,” She’d responded, a wistful smile on her face. “Two brothers, two sisters. All younger.”

“Your parents had four more kids after you? What, were you that fucking annoying they needed to try again four fucking times?”

“No, I was just so adorable they needed to try and recreate my perfection. Once they realized that was impossible, they gave up.” She’d smirked, and Ben hated that somehow he didn’t doubt her words. “Well,” she’d mused to herself. “That and they fell violently out of love with each other.”

“Violently?” He’d made a face, and she’d nodded solemnly.

“I shielded my siblings from a lot of flying plates.”

Ben found another thing to hate. Her parents, and how fucking sad she looked. “You miss them?”

“My parents?” She’d snorted. “I miss my dad. I hope my mom gets her head popped.”

He’d coughed to cover a laugh. “No, you fucking smartass. Your siblings.”

Her answer was quick and soft. “Every fucking day.”

Ben had grunted, watching the distance return to her face, and before he could stop himself, he was talking. “I didn’t have any siblings.”

Before he could curse himself out and try to distract Her with something else, she had been looking back at him with wide, focused eyes. “Do you wish you did?”

“I never thought about it,” he’d muttered. “My father was such a fucking dick I’m surprised he even got my mother to marry him, let alone fucking have one kid. I think he hated me enough to never fucking risk it again.”

“Risk it?” She’d kept her voice impossibly gentle as she’d asked, and it made his skin crawl all weird.

“I was the biggest fucking regret of his life. If he could go back and stop me from happening in the first place, make my mother flush me out, he wouldn’t have fucking hesitated.”

She’d paused, and a very fucking stupid part of Ben had thought she was going to let the conversation go. Of course, he should’ve fucking known by now that She damn well wouldn’t.

“What was your mom like?”

He hadn’t fucking expected that, and it had shocked him enough to answer. “Kind. Too kind for my father, he saw it as fucking weakness and told her all the fucking time. But she was so fucking kind.” He took a heavy breath. “She was full of love, and I have no fucking clue how. It was fucking stupid, all her love, even for my piece of shit father. He’d yell at her and threaten her and mock her, but she still fucking loved him. She fucking loved everything.”

Her voice was still gentle from beside him. “Like what?”

“Animals. Cats specifically. My father had all these fucking hunting dogs he loved more than anything, certainly more than me, and the only good thing he ever fucking did was trade one to get her a cat. It was massive, fluffy and gray, and it was a fucking asshole to everyone but her. It ate like a fucking elephant, shed like a whore in summer, but she loved it so fucking much.” At this point Ben had really wished he would shut the fuck up, but he couldn’t, and he was going to have to figure out a way to blame Her for that later. “She loved art. Painting. She tried to get me to love it too, even though I could barely draw a fucking worm. But I’d try, and she’d frame all my stupid, shitty drawings and hang them around the house until my father saw them and threw them in the trash. She loved music but couldn’t carry a tune if her life fucking depended on it. They’d go to the opera because my father would donate a ton for the publicity, and she’d come back all damn giddy. I’d wait up, just because she was fucking contagious when she was that happy. Even my father felt it, enough to just go straight to bed and not kick my ass for still being awake. She was fucking smart, too. Real fucking smart. My father would joke he wished she was a man, because then her brain would be useful. She would’ve fucking jumped for joy if she saw the world now. Met a fucking woman doctor.” He paused, looking back down at Her beside him. She hadn’t looked away from him, and there was none of the pity he’d expected to see on her face. It was just open, listening intently to his words with no malice or trickery behind her eyes.

“She sounds amazing.” She’d said softly, a small smile he didn’t understand on her face. “And your dad sounds like a fucking cunt.”

Ben had chuckled in surprise. “Fucking understatement of the damn year, Sunshine. That pussy would’ve tried to pry your degree from your fucking hands.”

“Let him try, I’d burn his fucking face off and laugh while I did it.”

“What were you even going to fucking do with a PhD in archeology?" He’d asked, and she’d huffed a small laugh.

“Anthropology, Pretty Boy. But nice guess.” She corrected. “And I’m honestly not sure. I’d quite literarily only just actually received the degree before everything… changed.” She’d sighed. “I had a few job offers, but mostly in academia and business. What I wanted was to work with nonprofits to help people.”

“Help people?” He’d given her a disbelieving stare. “With a prissy fucking degree?”

“Yeah, dickwad. Help people. I was a cultural anthropologist. I specialized in the evolution of cultures and ways to combat systemic cultural oppression.”

He’d stared at Her blankly. “You’re going to have to take down the fucking fancy talk by seven, Sunshine.”

“I studied how the government and culture is mean to people on purpose, and how to make them stop being mean.” She’d said flatly.

“Oh.” He’d rolled his eyes at the dirty look she was giving him. “Oh, fuck off. It wasn’t that painful to say.”

“Yes, it was.” She’d mumbled, narrowing her eyes at him. “You’re not going to argue with me?”

“What’s there to fucking argue about?”

“I just called your beloved country an ‘oppressive system’.” She’d watched him wearily, but her heart remained steady. “Doesn’t it mar your refined American nationalism?”

“Do you fucking want me to be mad?” Ben had asked, raising his brows at her. “I can definitely find it in me, that’s not a fucking issue. But usually when we fight about this shit, you get all bitchy and don’t talk to me for way too fucking long.”

“I mean, no, I don’t want you to get mad…” She’d frowned, examining him with yet another fucking confusing look. “Does it really bother you when I ignore you?”

“No.” He’d snapped quickly. “It’s just annoying, and I don’t like having to fucking deal with it.”

She’d hummed with an amused smile on her face, and the conversation had moved on to something else. Ben had shoved down the way it had been so easy to talk about his mother with her, until it was somewhere in his gut and he didn’t have to think about the way the feeling rolled around inside him.

And he refused to even acknowledge how when She would smile now, he’d have to fight himself to not do the same.

———-

It had been a week since the Sage incident, a week since Ben had saved your life—you'd locked everything about that particular action from what you thought of it to how it made you feel somewhere deep in your chest—and you were starting to lose your mind a little bit. When Annie and Hughie had stopped by with nervous words about delays in your meticulously prepared and incredibly well-detailed plan, you’d been willing to wait another day, maybe two, before executing operation Quick and Bald. Now it had been three days, burgeoning on four, and you were worryingly close to leaving the safe house just to yell at Butcher. Ben could stay here, or follow you and help you beat Butcher up for all you cared. Which was, admittedly, worrying within itself. Especially because the whole point of operation Quick and Bald was to take preventative measures against Ben’s needless brutality.

Over a month ago, right after you’d moved into the safe house and when you had been ready to throttle Ben’s neck every waking moment—an urge that hadn’t entirely waned, but was now undercut with a weirder, stronger urge to be near him without any murderous intent—you’d spent the hours quarantined in your room perfecting your plan to get Ryan Butcher the fuck out of dodge. When they’d come to pick you and Ben up for the whole Neuman test, you’d left it in the van for Butcher to find, and had been waiting since for him to set up the dominoes so you could knock them over.

At this point, you’d be happy with not even “dominos to knock over” and just “one singular domino to throw at someone." You had begun to develop a habit of staring down the hall from the living room, trying to will someone to appear with at least a fucking update. So far this strategy was not working, and had apparently started to garner attention.

Sitting on the couch, the TV white noise in the background and noodles in your hand cold and forgotten, you felt a foreign rush of oddly tight concern run through your body. You frowned, heard your name from next to you, and turned to find that Ben had been poking your arm.

“Are you fucking alive?” He grunted, watching you with a frown.

“Literally? Yes.” You answered with a tight smile. “You have noodles on your face.”

He reached up to feel for them, not looking away from you. “What the fuck do you mean literally? How can you be fucking metaphorically alive?”

“Mind-body problem, Pretty Boy. And it’s not metaphorically, it’s philosophically.” You lean back, grinning.

“You’re a real fucking pretentious bitch sometimes.” He grumbled, still trying to find the food stuck to his beard.

“If you made me a shirt that said that, I’d wear it.”

“I’m not going to fucking make you a shirt, Sunshine. You couldn’t make me learn to fucking sow with a gun to my head.”

“Because the gun wouldn’t affect you at all?” You pointed to your own chin, mirroring where the noodle was caught.

He sneered. “Because I’m not a pussy.” His hand found the stray piece of his dinner, and he pulled it from his jaw.

“Big words from the man who took two tries to make me instant ramen- hey!” A wet noodle hits you in the face.

“Ramen your ungrateful ass didn’t even fucking eat.” Ben gave a pointed look at the abandoned cup in your hands, the food inside having long lost any heat. “Don’t fucking test me, or I’ll actually spit in your food next time.”

“Drama queen,” you muttered, peeking back at the door. “Like you don’t already do that.”

“I fight the urge to be a fucking bitch, unlike certain women.”

You nod absentmindedly. “Butcher.”

Ben snorted behind you, and a smile you hoped he didn’t see crept onto your face.

“Yeah, sure Sunshine.” His attention returned to the TV, and you did your best to not stare down the hall, trying to ignore the hope that the door now shrouded in darkness would open.

A successful effort that made you jump out of your seat when it did just that with an aggressive bang.

Ben was faster than you, practically launching himself over the sofa and bolting down the hall, a dangerous look of alarm the last thing you saw on his face before he was gone from the room.

“Shit, no! It’s me!” You heard a high-pitched shout from the shadows of the entrance. “It’s Hughie!”

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” You heard Ben’s growl of a response.

Butcher’s voice drawled from the shadows. “Oi, take a deep fucking breath and put the bloody kid down.” 

“Someone fucking answer me first.”

“Put him down, Soldier Boy, before we knock your ancient ass the fuck out.” The impatient, clipped words of MM responded, almost drowned out by Frenchie's shout.

“Can someone turn on the fucking lights? It is as dark as Monsieur Butcher’s heart and asshole!” 

“I- I don’t feel good.” Hughie’s voice stuttered.

“Ben!” You flicked on the hallway sconces, illuminating a scene of Ben’s full body weight pressing Hughie to the wall, Butcher and MM trying with practically negative success to pry him off, and Kimiko gripping one of Frenchie’s arms as his other groped around for direction. You let out a very long, very loud sigh. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“It’s fucking late,” he snapped, not letting Hughie go. “They shouldn’t be here so fucking late.”

“This ain’t your real house, Mate.” Butcher grunted, still trying to move Ben. “We can be here whenever we bloody well please.”

Hughie wheezed out your name in a pleading tone. “Your plan is ready. We’re here to- fuck- we’re here to get you.”

That got you moving, crossing to the end of the hall in quick, frantic steps. “It’s ready? Are you sure?” Hughie gave a weak nod, and you rolled your eyes, shoving Ben shoulder. “Put him down, dumbass. He’s not a threat, and honestly, probably the worst one to have gone after. Just, like, strategically.”

Ben glared at you, but let go. He glanced at where MM and Butcher were still grabbing him, and gave them a venomous look that got them both to let go and take hasty steps back. He shot a glowering look of they could’ve fucking waited until the morning in your direction.

You wrinkled your nose at him. No. Shut the fuck up. You turned to Hughie, not even bothering to hide the desperation you felt in your imploring stare. “It’s all ready? All of it? A-Train agreed to help? We’re sure Ashley has the information? We’re sure neither one is going to tell Homelander, and we’re not about to walk into a fucking trap?”

“Yes, yes, yes, kind of, and yes.” Butcher counted off on his fingers as he answered. “But we’ve got to go right fucking now.”

“Kind of?” Anxious energy rushed through you—that still-strange feeling lighting under your skin—and you ignored the weird look Ben shot you as it did. “What do you mean, kind of? If you fucked this up, Butcher, I swear to God-"

“Calm the fuck down, Love.” Butcher snapped. “It’s going to be fine, we’ll explain on the way. But we need to go fucking now if you want this to work.”

You gave a sharp nod, starting to pull on your boot, glancing up with a pause when you heard Hughie say your name behind you.

“Do you, uh, do you want to get dressed first?” His voice was still slightly weak as he recovered from Ben’s force.

You glanced down at your body, and decided that the oversized shirt and cloth shorts would be fine. They were from the CIA spring fire-proof collection, and that was more than enough. “Nope. Let’s fucking move.”

You were halfway to the door when a crash sounded behind you, and you whirled around to see MM firmly blocking Ben’s path, the crash seeming to have been Hughie stumbling into the wall in an attempt to get away from the standoff.

“You’re not coming, Soldier Boy. This is a goddamn delicate operation, and you’re the fucking reason we have to do it in the first place. We can’t afford you throwing a tantrum and screwing us.”

“I’m fucking coming, and it’s not up for fucking debate.”

Off to the side, Frenchie snickered as Kimiko signed how many times do you think he’s said that before?

Ben shot them an annoyed look, his fists clenching. “What’s so fucking funny?”

“Nothing,” Frenchie snickered, and his tone was so remarkably unconvincing that even if you hadn’t understood Kimiko, you wouldn’t have believed him.

Ben grunted and tried to move past MM, again to no avail.

He glared down at the firmly planted man, a familiar violent glint in his eyes. “You better fucking move now, before I make you.”

“Do your fucking worst, we’ll put you right back in the box. You’re not coming with us.”

“MM,” you said firmly, watching Ben's fists clench as the dangerous glint returns to his eyes. “We need to go.”

MM looks back at you, but remains in his place. “Are you fucking serious? You’re siding with him?”

“I’m not siding with him.” You keep your voice level, ignoring Ben’s smug face and grin. “We can’t leave him. The I go where he goes thing unfortunately goes both ways.”

“The safe house will hold him for five hours.” MM pushed, and before you could even shake your head, Ben cut in.=

"No, it won’t.”

You shoot him a look that says you’re being unhelpful, and he just returns it with his own of fuck off, you know you fucking want me there.

“Please, MM. He’ll stay quiet in the background, or I’ll burn his dick off. Right?” You direct your last words at Ben, giving him a pointed agree with me or I’m knocking you out and leaving you here look.

“Yeah, whatever. But I’m not staying in the fucking van like a pussy. And you’d better explain what the fuck is happening on the way, Sunshine.”

“Deal. But first they,” You narrowed your eyes at Butcher. “Have some explaining of their own to do.”

“Don’t lose your bloody mind, Love, it’s all in order.” Butcher said breezily, shoving past you to open the door. He gave a dramatic wave of his arm for you to exit, and with a look of doubt, you did.

The car ride was already poised to be uncomfortable. Butcher’s car was not equipped for seven people, let alone seven people where three were very large men, three were supes, and nobody wanted to have physical contact with two. As such, Butcher drove, MM sat in the front, you found yourself squished against one window with Ben between you and a remarkably uncomfortable Hughie, as Kimiko sat, slightly elevated onto their laps, between Frenchie at the other window, and Hughie. It was overall an unideal situation, made worse as your own frustration was amplified by Ben’s, and by Hughie revealing that it was, in fact, not all in order.

Your phase one, the original operation Quick and Bald had called for Ashley Barrett’s complete cooperation. You’d even painstakingly outlined all the potential ways to flip her—most involving something along the lines of hey, wouldn’t a job that didn’t make you so stressed you rip out all your hair and have to buy a bunch of wigs be nice?—and different ways to keep Homelander from finding out about her betrayal—Spain was lovely this time of year, and had a thriving BDSM community Ashley would love. While MM had managed to take care of your instructions for A-Train, the half of the plan you’d incorrectly anticipated to be more difficult, the Ashley situation was, in Butcher’s words, very fucking delicate, but we’ve adapted and everything will be bloody fine, so trust me and don’t be a fucking cunt about it.

You did not trust him. I didn’t help that you’d asked for any other possible details, and he’d pretended he couldn’t hear you. This suspicion was confirmed when, despite your incredible clarity that you would never step foot there again, Butcher seemed to be driving right to Vought Tower.

Your eyes had been steadily widening, panic starting to run through you the closer and closer you got, and you flinched when you felt Ben’s roughly shoulder nudge your own.

“What’s fucking wrong with you?” He’d asked in a low voice, barely audible over Hughie’s rambling explanation.

“You should listen,” you mutter back, trying to shut out the confusing concern he always seemed to feel at you, how it felt remarkably genuine, but was laced with anger that felt like it was trying to push out of your body. “Hughie’s explaining the plan.”

“Yeah, but all I have to fucking do is stay quiet, and I get to keep my dick. You’re being fucking twitchy and silent, and your heart is beating faster than it has all damn day, so don’t even try to fucking lie and tell me it’s fine.”

“It is fine, I’m fine-“ You paused as his words sank in. “Wait, what do you mean my heart-“

“Alright, here we go.” Butcher cut off both you and Hughie with a clap of his hands. “Everyone bloody out, let’s get this shitshow on the road.”

“Butcher,” you said, looking around to see you’d parked directly across from the tower entrance. “What the fuck are we doing here?”

“We’re meeting them right there.” MM answered for Butcher, pointing out of his window to something you couldn’t see. “It’s almost midnight, and Annie’s been making sure nobody gets inside but us.”

“But why?” You protest, even as MM leaves the car. “This,” you give a wide, general wave that hits Ben in the nose. “Cannot be the only option.”

“Both of them still have their trackers,” Hughie leans forward with an apologetic look as Frenchie and Kimiko exit the car. “This will look like they’re just getting a midnight snack, and hopefully Homelander won’t get suspicious.”

“Hopefully?!” You feel a rush of anger—not yours—and a twist of fear deep within your gut—absolutely yours. “Hopefully fucking Homelander won’t get suspicious?!”

Hughie gave an uncertain nod before very quickly scrambling to get out of the car. You take a long, deep breath, trying to steel yourself. A rush of what was becoming a familiar fuming and brittle concern ran through you. You look at Ben, to find his eyes locked firmly onto yours.

“Sorry about hitting-“

“I know how to hot-wire a car.”

You blink at him, taken aback by the firmness of his voice. “What?”

His hand moved to grip your thigh, his gaze not wavering. “I know how to hot-wire a car.”

You give him a flat look. “Yeah, I heard you the first time. Why are you telling me that?”

His frustration leaked into you. “Because say the word, I’ll steal Butcher’s car, and we’ll fucking leave.”

“What? Are you insane?”

“You look like you’re either going to start fucking crying or burst into flames, and this is a stupid fucking idea.”

“This was my plan.” You snap. “And I’m not stealing Butcher’s car. Why do you even know how to hot-wire a car anyway?”

Ben’s grip tightened. “No, your plan was stupidly well fucking thought out.”

“That’s an oxymoron.” You mutter, and he ignores you.

“And even if they haven’t completely fucking blown the execution, they completely squashed any chance of safety.”

“It’ll be fine,” you say, the words sounding fake even as you say them. “It’s late. He’s probably asleep.”

“What if he’s not?” His concern was starting to move to your throat, and there was something else, something sitting far deeper in your chest, beating and beating against you. Against you.

“Ben.” You place your hand over his. “I’ve worked too hard on this. This is the only way, and it will be fine.” You say the last words firmly and clearly, trying to make them sink into you. “Now take your fucking hand off of me, and get out of the damn car.”

He pulls himself from you, and even as his touch leaves, the concern and beat linger until he’s gone from the car. You drag yourself across the seats and ignore Hughie’s offer of a hand as you duck out of the car and onto the curb. You notice the 24 hour diner MM must have been pointing out almost immediately, half because—aside from an incredibly sketchy looking deli a few doors down—it’s the only building with its lights still on, and half because two very flustered teenagers are sulking away from the entrance, where Annie stands with her arms crossed. She’s already spotted your group, and has angeled her head in a signal to join her.

“You’re late.” She chides as you approach.

“Well, Starlight, I’d apologize, but it was those two fuckheads,” Ben and MM both receive a jabbed thumb over Butcher’s shoulder. “Who decided to draw out the bloody carpool process.”

“I told you not to call me Starlight anymore, Butcher.” Annie snaps, not giving him a chance to respond before she turns to you. “A-Train is, somehow, running behind as well. Hopefully Ashley’s just being resistant to getting food with him, but they’ll be here.”

“Isn’t running that pussy’s whole fucking thing?” Ben muttered, quiet enough for only you to hear. You step as hard as you can on his foot.

“Shut it, Pretty Boy.” You whisper over his grunt of what probably is more emotional pain than physical.

“Bitch.” He hisses back.

“Cunt.” You raise your voice so the others can hear you. “We should go inside, it’s risky to just… stand here.”

With nervous looks around and stuttered agreements, you all make your way into the diner. The lights are flickering, and it’s eerily empty with only a very nervous-looking blonde waitress at the counter. She makes a very big show of asking how many are in your party, leading you to a large, round table, and laying out the menus with shaky hands. Kimiko, Hughie, Annie, and MM try and offer her comforting smiles, though MM’s is strained as he keeps a vigilant glare on Ben. The waitress is staring at Ben herself, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, glacing back as she leaves to get your and Butcher’s coffee, Annie and MM’s tea, Kimiko and Hughie’s milkshakes, and Ben and Frenchie’s orders of “the strongest alcohol you’ve fucking got.” Your personal bet was it was going to just be very old beer.

“Why is she fucking staring at me?” Ben muttered to you, watching the waitress as she walked away. “Did you fuck up my beard that bad?”

“Your beard looks literally the same.” You dismiss. “And it’s because, as far as the public knows, Maeve killed you in a heroic act of self-sacrifice to stop your evil, anti-American attacks. That, or she wants to fuck you.”

“Hm,” he looks back at you, settling down into his seat. “Am I allowed to bring guests into the safe house?”

“No.” You say, a little more curtly than you intended. Seeing his wide, cocky grin, you clairfy. “It’s a breach of security. She would need to pass a CIA vetting and be approved by, like, twenty people. I don’t think she’d do that just to fuck you.”

Ben shrugs, his smirk only growing. “You did.”

“I’m going to cut off your balls and feed them to you-“

“Hey,” MM cuts you off, saying your name in a brisk, hard tone from across the table. “They’re here.”

You snap your head to the door, where A-Train is practically pushing Ashley into the diner.

You hear her voice clearly over the recession pop humming from the speakers. “Why can’t we just go to the fucking deli? They make these amazing meatball subs and supes eat free, so you could order for both of us- oh fuck no.”

“Oh, shit.” MM mutters, jumping to his feet with Butcher and Annie as Ashley notices them, and promptly tries to dash for the exit.

You don’t entirely blame her. You’d probably do the same. You had done the same, an unhelpful voice reminds you.

“I- Am- Not-“ Ashley is trying to get past A-Train, who hasn’t given up trying to herd her further into the diner. “Fuck- this-“

“Ashley, just listen to them, I fucking swear-“

“Why should I trust you?!” Ashley doubles over, out of breath. “You fucking tricked me! Midnight snack my fucking ass- Fuck no!” She raises a crooked finger at Annie, who has stopped in front of her. “Get the fuck away from me, you bitch.”

“Ashley, please listen to A-Train-“

“No! Just leave me the fuck alone! I don’t want to be a part of your weird fucking eye for an eye justice shit-“

“You kind of already are.” MM says as he locks the door behind her. “You work for Vought, your it’s motherfucking CEO. That makes you a part of this, like it or not.”

“Not!” Ashley shouts. “I don’t care what you have to say! Homelander’s going to fucking kill me, oh my god.” She starts to hyperventilate. “If he finds out I was here, he’ll kill you-“ She points a shaky finger at A-Train. “And then make me go on fucking TV to explain why you’re missing, and then fucking kill me-“

Butcher scoffs. “Bloody hell, lady. Calm the fuck down, Homelander ain’t gonna find out.”

“You don’t know that!” She shrieked. “He knows fucking everything! Especially since fucking Sage joined!” She spins around frantically, and her wild eyes lock onto yours. “He knows about them!” A shaking finger jumps between you and Ben. “Fuck! He’s supposed to be fucking asleep and now he’s fucking not! And he was so fucking angry about her, I’ve never seen him so fucking angry-“

Whatever else Ashley stutters about Homelander’s anger is lost to you as the world freezes. The feeling isn’t just under your skin, it’s up your spine, in your blood, circling around your brain. It’s fucking everywhere and you can’t fucking breathe, her words looping around you.

He knows. He’s angry. He fucking knows. He’s fucking angry. He fucking knows and he’s fucking angry and he fucking knows and he’s fucking angry and-

A white hot, impossibly calm feeling crashes over you. It’s angry, hungry and angry, but it’s grounding, sharpening everything around you. Suddenly the world is back in complete focus, Ashley’s shrill rambling scraping at your ears, and in the distance that weird fucking rhythm is sounding. As the feeling in your body returns fully, you realize Ben’s hand is back on your thigh. You bounce it, looking up to give him a glare, and find he’s not even looking at you. Instead, his eyes are trained on Ashley, narrowed and cold. You give a small cough, and when he glances down at you, the feeling of anger stutters with something lighter, though only for a second.

You give another bounce of your leg, a look of move your damn hand or lose it taking over your face.

No, not until you calm the fuck down his scowl responds.

You huff, standing abruptly, and his hand falls off at the force of your movement. Suddenly you feel a lot less solid, but reason that your legs are shaky from the Homelander of it all, and if any situation calls for fractured nerves, it’s this one.

“Ashley.” You call across the diner, trying not to stutter or chew off your lip as her protests falters and attention turns to you. “If you know who I am, you know I wouldn’t be anywhere near here if we weren’t certain it was safe. Just have some food with us, listen, and then you can go.”

Ashley gives you a scowl that might surpass Ben’s but nods tightly, yanking her arm from where A-Train had been trying to hold her in place. You sit back down as the group at the door returns to their seats, the poor waitress pressing herself against the bar as they pass. Letting out a shaky, unsteady breath, you try and still yourself as you look out the diner window. City lights. Music.

City lights.

Music.

It was safe. He knows and he’s angry but was safe and there were city lights and music.

Your breathing was no longer coming in short, distressed bursts, but getting air in and out of yourself still felt like an act of labor, and you needed to get it the fuck together before Ashley sat down.

City lights. Music.

You can’t hear the song the diner is playing, instead letting your whole mind turn inward, allowing the ghost of music you can no longer sing to wash over you.

Ashley sits across from you right when you regain control, and from the corner of your eye, you see Ben pulling his hand from where it had been inching towards yours.

Her eyes flit, nerves poorly hidden, from you to Ben to Butcher to Annie and back to you, and her voice is high and shaky when she speaks. “Well?”

“Ashley, we need your help.” Annie leans forward, palms flat on the table.

“Well, then we’re done. I can’t help you. They don’t tell me anything, not really.” Ashley tries to stand, but her arm is caught by A-Train. “Really?” A-Train hisses as he pulls her back into her seat beside him. “They don’t tell you anything my ass, we sit in on all the same meetings. And I pulled these files-“ He pulls out a thumb drive from absolutely nowhere and drops it on the table. “Using your name, so you clearly have access to them.”

“What?!” Ashley looks at the thumb drive like it’s going to either explode or start jizzing on her blouse. “Why would you fucking do that?”

“Insurance.” A-Train answers smugly, the thumbdrive clearly having his intended. “I can’t open it, so you’re going to tell them how, and then I’ll erase the records of you taking the files from the system.”

Ashley looks around at your group, shaking her head. “No.”

“Sorry, Mate. We ain’t really asking.” Butcher leans across A-Train, shoving the thumb drive closer to Ashley. “Do us this solid, and A-Train won’t go right up to Homelander and tell him about how he saw you also cuddly and tight with me, Soldier Boy, and his favorite missing person.”

Your heart jumps right into your throat. City lights. Music.

Suddenly, Ben’s elbow is planted against yours, and you’re pulled back down to earth just in time to hear Ashley yell, “This is fucking blackmail! I’ll fucking sue!”

“You cannot sue government officials, madame.” Frenchie says smugly, and Hughie shakes his head.

“That’s- Frenchie, that’s not even kind of true.”

“You’re also not a government official.” Annie adds.

Frenchie looks genuinely perplexed at this and gives Kimiko a confused frown, receiving a shrug in return.

“But,” you pipe up, your voice somehow bored and casual. “I’m legally dead. He’s-“ You jab Ben in the chest, and Ashley’s eyes widen. “Legally dead and an enemy of the state. You can’t sue either of us, not without admitting some Vought secrets that will be very bad PR.” You give her a twisted smile, leering across the table. “Help us, or, even if Homelander believes you, which we both know he won’t, you’ll get fired. And I’m sure they’ll be very understanding and normal about how they do it.”

You feel a flash of weird pride and realize you can see Ben fighting a smile in your periphery.

Ashley has a fearful expression, looking at where your elbow is still connected with Ben’s. “What- what's even on it?”

“Becca Butcher files.” You say, not taking your gaze from her, but you didn’t need to look around to see the sudden, rigidness with which everyone sat. You even felt Ben’s own shock run through you.

You’d be lying if you said hiding the exact contents of the file hadn’t been a very purposeful choice that you and Butcher had made. He’d cornered you, demanding to know what you planned on doing should Soldier Boy go after Ryan, and you’d told him that it wouldn’t be an issue. Ryan looked up to Homelander, that was why he stayed. He’d lost his mother, he didn’t trust Butcher, all the poor kid had was his insane, sociopathic father. Some part of you—small and sad and tired, still sitting on a staircase in Boston—understood that. But with Becca gone, gone forever, Ryan didn’t have a place to run like you’d had. Homelander was the default, and just kind enough to his son that Ryan could force himself to forgive Homelander again and again. Homelander was safe for Ryan.

You were going to make sure Ryan never saw Homelander as safe again. And that started with Becca Butcher and would end with you. So you and Butcher had agreed with a tight handshaked that he'd ripped his hand from right after, everyone was only going to know what they needed to. That was the only way it would work.

“Becca Butcher files?” MM repeats in a slow, incredulous tone. “You,” he turns with a look of shock to Butcher. “You knew about this? You’re fuckin okay with this?”

“I’m doing what has to be done, Mate.” Butcher answers flatly, then says your name. “Tell ‘em the plan, Love.”

“We need to get Ryan away from Homelander. Ryan needs to know about his mother.”

“No,” Ashley was emerging from the shock to try and stand from the table, but A-Train’s arm shot out, pulling her back down once more. “No,” she says again, looking around desperately. “Ryan, Ryan is all he has. All he cares about. You take Ryan he’ll lose his mind-“

“He’s already lost his mind.” Something snaps in your chest—a cruel feeling waking up as you watch Ashley fret about Homelander. “And I couldn’t give less fucks about what he cares about.” The feeling is crawling across your skin. “If this hurts him, good. It could never hurt him enough to make it right.” You hear drums and still can’t place where they’re coming from. “Now listen to the last fucking strand of your morality on your scalp and fucking help us.”

Ashley shakes her head again, this time with less certainty. “It’s- no- He-“ she pulls in a deep, unsteady breath. “He won’t stop until he gets Ryan back. He already is going insane about you and him and how he needs to get you back safe and put him back down, and if Ryan goes to then nothing will stop him-“

The drums are loud now, and something that’s usually there on Ben’s face is missing. Your own body doesn’t feel entirely normal anymore, but it’s not paralyzed or running. You can feel something in Ben caving, falling inward in a growing rhythm, moving in time as something in you grows. It's not in you now, it’s across you, coating your skin and singing with glee.

“Ashley,” the sound of your voice is a little far away, but you can hear it echo through you. It’s wired, hot, a warning.

“I- I can’t.”

“Yes, you fucking can.” You sneer. “You’re just too much of a pussy to do it.” Ben coughs in the way that you know means he wants to laugh, just as the drums stutter and move farther away.

“Please, I don’t-“

“Do not make me stab you.”

Ashley falters, looking you up and down. “You won’t.”

“Trust me, she will.” Ben smirks, giving you a nudge. “She’s surprisingly violent.”

“I, I won’t. I can’t. He’ll kill me-“

“You think we won’t?” Ben growls, any amusement in him gone as you feel something unbreakable and resolved through your body.

Ashley tries to run again, this time actually managing to get up from the table, but is knocked flat on her ass by A-Train before she can take two steps. You stand and give the itch, now under your tongue and your nails, a small scratch.

“Oh, fuck no.” You hear scrambling as you walk around the table and stop, staring down at Ashley.

She’s crawling back from you, back from the fire curling from your whole body, and disgust curls in your gut. For the first time you feel anger—insatiable and gory anger—all of your own. No city lights flash around you, no hollow music dances around your head. You don’t fear Ashley. She’s weak and spineless. She’s willing to cover her hands in Ryan’s blood, in your blood, to keep herself safe from Homelander. She’s staring at you, terrified, and you don’t need to touch her to know it isn’t even a fraction of all the fear you felt in that white room. That white room she knows about, may have seen, and is still trying to keep Homelander happy.

You bend down, letting all your hatred for Vought, for her, cover your features. When you speak, your words are clear and low.

“You are going to tell Butcher how to access the thumbdrive. A-Train and you are going to take some food with you, and walk back to the tower. You aren’t going to tell Homelander about this, and if he asks, offer him some leftovers. A-Train will erase your activity from the files, and you’re going to pretend the whole night never happened. If you tell Homelander about either me or Be-“ You correct yourself smoothly. “Soldier Boy, the last thing I will do before he locks me away again is kill you. Do I make myself clear?”

Ashley nods frantically, flinching when you raise your hand.

“Say it. Say that I made myself clear.”

“You-“ Ashley stutters, hiccuping. “You made yourself clear.”

You draw yourself back up. “Good. Butcher, I’m leaving. You can drive me and come back, or Ben can steal your car, but I’m leaving.”

When you turn, when you see the looks on your team’s face, all the anger is gone, and suddenly there is a crushing, painful weight of shame on your chest. They’re looking at you like Ashley had been, like you’re no better than Homelander. Like maybe you should go back in the room, it would be safer for them, it would be safer for everyone if you were far, far away-

“You heard the lady.” Ben is standing, walking around to your side. “It’s late. We’re leaving. Sunshine?” He offers you his arm, and you stare between it and your own, still covered in flame. Looking up, his face looks bored, as if this is just another Tuesday, and he offers his arm to women who are actively ablaze on a regular basis.

Your face feels slack, and all you can manage is to blink at him. I’ll burn you, Pretty Boy. It’ll hurt.

His brows subtly knit, and he doesn’t move. I’ll live, Sunshine. Don’t let them see you break. We’re going home.

You look back at your team, a wide circle of berth having formed around you and Ben. Butcher is looking between the two of you, and you recognize that glint in his eyes. You’d seen it before, but it’s only been really, truly directed at you once. In a graveyard in Boston, gravestones and bushes around you burning in the dead of winter, holding a bucket of ice that steamed off your skin. Under it, fear begins to creep back into you, exhaustion pushing it forward. Butcher reaches behind him, and your knees feel weak.

But you don’t fall. Zealous anger, strong and raw, spreads through you and Butcher’s movements still. You look down and find Ben’s arm unflinchingly looped through yours, his body at its full height as his eyes rake coldly over Butcher.

The silence hangs in the air, cut through only by Ashley’s quick, sobbed breaths. For a second you think the smoke seeping from you will overtake the room before anyone moves, but Butcher slowly reaches into his pockets, eyes not leaving Ben’s, and throws the keys at Hughie.

“Drop them off, Mate, then come right back. No bloody detours.”

Hughie stares at the keys, looking like he’s going to protest, but Kimiko grabs them before he can.

She turns to you, completely composed, no fear wavering as she locks your eyes with hers. I’ll take you.

Before you can thank her, Frenchie steps forward, signing as he speaks. “Mon Coeur, you cannot drive.”

She frowns. Yes I can.

“No, Mon Coeur, not legally.” Frenchie says, exasperated, and you have a feeling this is not first time they've had this debate.

Kimiko rolls her eyes at you. Fine. She signs back at Frenchie, throwing the keys at him. You’ll do it.

Frenchie stumbles as he catches them, giving Kimiko a shocked look, which she pretends not to see as she walks to the door, signing at you as she passes.

Let’s go before Butcher’s brain starts working.

A small smile threatens your face, and you move, tugging Ben’s arm only once before he falls into pace with you, Frenchie scrambling behind you both.

The car ride back feels longer. The moment you’d stepped out of the diner, your body had extinguished, and you had a worrying sense that the only thing keeping you from collapsing on the sidewalk was Ben’s arm firm through yours. No words were said for the entirety of the drive, you and Ben in the backseat as Frenchie drove and Kimiko lounged in shotgun, and your brain raced. Ben hadn’t let go, and the drums were fading in and out of your chest as he stared ahead into the night.

You arrived at the safe house, only a street lamp casting a dull glow across the street. The chill of the wind cutting against you as Kimiko walked you to the door, Frenchie mumbling something about keeping the car safe from Hooligans. Ben made to step inside, but halted, still not releasing your arm, as you stayed at the doorstep.

At his questioning glare, you tried to wiggle his arm from yours. “Go inside, Ben. I’ll be right there.”

He looked down at where he was still connected with you, and you felt reluctance in time with the drums, but he let go with a scowl. “Be fast,” he grunted, and stomped into the house.

You watched until he’d disappeared fully down the hall, turning to Kimiko only once his back was shrouded in the darkness of the house.

“Thank you,” you give her a soft smile, signing as you speak. “I- I don’t know what happened, I just-“

She shakes her head, and you trail off. I understand. I get angry too. She pauses, hands hovering for only a second. We are not like them. She points down the street, in the direction of the tower, and then past you, into the house. We get to be angry.

“I don’t want to be angry.” You say softly. “He wins when I get angry.”

Kimiko gives you a sad look, placing a hand on your arm. Her own frustration, her fear of Homelander, all the anger at the world, sinks into you. She holds your gaze for a second before drawing back to sign once more. He doesn’t win when you’re angry. He wins when you’re scared. You’re not Soldier Boy. Your anger is good.

You glance back into the house. “I think he- Ben- Soldier Boy- is scared. Or something. His emotions are really fucking confusing.”

You let him touch you. She signs. Does he know?

“He said he didn’t care, because he’s, and I quote, ‘not a pussy with something to hide’.”

But he’s scared? She gives you a questioning frown. Do you think it’s because of Russia? Could you fix it, like you offered for me?

“I’m not sure, but-“ you’re cut off as Frenchie honks the horn, leaning out the window.

“Mon Coeur!” His odd position makes his signing almost unintelligible, which he seems to realize, and raises his voice. “Monsieur Butcher says to get back ‘like a hare with a bomb up it’s arse'.”

Kimiko rolls her eyes at you, but signs a goodbye, giving your hand a small squeeze before returning to the car. As the engine rumbles, Frenchie pulling out the driveway, Kimiko’s calm faith lingers in you, and you walk back into the house, shutting the door behind you.

Almost all the lamps and ceiling lights of the house are off, the TV glowing from where you had abandoned it several hours ago. From the bottom of the stairs, you can see the upstairs hall is washed in a soft yellow, and when you reach the top Ben’s door is open, the light from within filling the hall. You stop at the entrance to his room, his back to you as he pulls a cotton shirt over his head.

You let out a small cough in a weak attempt to alert him to your presence.

“You’re allowed to just come in, Sunshine.” He grunts, still facing away. “I’m not a shy little virgin you need to pussyfoot around.”

You let out a small hum, walking over the threshold and stopping a few feet behind him. “Thank you.” You say softly, and he turns around to look at you.

His eyes are tired. Pained. Something looks like it’s pulling at him and it scares you. You’ve seen that expression before, when you’d woken him up that first day, at the Neuman mission, when you pulled him from nightmares with sharp hits, but never just there. It was always with something. This was like an island, just him and you, nothing pulling it out of him.

“Don’t thank me.” He says gruffly. Even his voice is drained. “You mostly held your own.”

“But-“

“And stop feeling bad about that Ashley bitch. She fucking deserved it.”

You stare at him. “You really believe that?”

He lets out a hollow laugh. “She was fucking pathetic. A fucking pussy. Fucking eating out Homelander’s fucking hand, brown-nosing him until he fucking cums and pays her, letting him take you-“ His jaw clenches. “I fucking meant it when I said we’re not going back Sunshine. I’m not a goddamn pussy liar.”

“I didn’t think you were. But, you…” Your voice fades as you try to find the words. “I could feel you. At the diner.”

“I fucking know, that was the goddamn point. I wasn’t going to let you start crying in front of those self-righteous pussies.”

“No, Ben.” You shake your head. “I could feel you. I could feel it.” You place a hand over your chest. “It was building. There was something beating against you, inside you. And you looked…” You watch him carefully. “Scared.”

“Fucking watch it.” He growls. “I don’t get fucking scared. I’m not-“

“A fucking pussy. I know.” You sigh. “I don’t want to, I can’t, fight right now. I’m so fucking tired. You can scream at me in the morning, but not right now, please.”

He stares at you, and just when you think he’s going to start yelling, he nods. “You’re…” He sounds strange. “You’re ok.”

Just like the last time he said it, the words aren’t phrased like a question. They don’t feel like a question. It feels like he’s just telling you again. But there’s something under it this time, something that makes his words almost unsure. Something that makes up your mind faster than you thought you would.

“Are you?” You ask quietly.

“Of course I fucking am.”

“Ben.” You tilt your head at him. “I’m going to tell you something, and I don’t want you to respond now.”

“You’re being fucking weird, Sunshine.”

“Please.”

He relents with a grunt. “Fucking fine. What.”

“I can fix it.” It’s so hard to keep his gaze as you speak. “It will take time, but I can fix it.”

“Fix what.” He scowls. “There’s nothing to fucking fix.”

“Your PTSD.”

“I don’t fucking have-“

“Ben, I could feel it. It’s dangerous. I could fix it.” You take a deep breath. “I can fix internal injuries as well. I offered to fix Kimiko’s muteness, but she didn’t want me to do it.”

“Then what fucking makes you think-“

“Muteness isn’t dangerous. And it would’ve been harder for me, I might have ended up mute myself. You’re dangerous like this. You can’t fucking control it, and don’t try and lie and say it’s under control. Ashley mentioned putting you back under, and you looked like someone was drowning you.”

“Shut the fuck up, Sunshine.” He leers at you. “You don’t fucking know me, know what it was like-“

“I do. You know I do.” You whisper, and the anger on his face breaks. “More than anyone else, I know. I can fix it, but you’ll have to let me. Just-“ You search his eyes, not sure what you’re looking for. “Just think about it. I won’t mention it again, I won’t even touch you, but my offer will stay on the table. Please, just think about it.”

Before you can leave, he grabs your hand. A rush of painful exhaustion runs through you, and there’s anger, but it’s not full of the fervor you’ve come to expect from him. It’s not even at you. It’s wide and almost consuming, leaving room for only a small kernel of something fragile and warm.

“I don’t care if you keep touching me, Sunshine. I've go nothing to hide from you, and that’s not going to change. But there’s nothing in me you need to fucking fix, so don’t fucking bother.”

“I’m not trying to fix you, Ben,” You murmur. "But remember, you burn, I burn. Please don't burn." Your last words are soft, and the kernel pulses.

“Good,” he grunts, releasing your arm. A small smirk crawls onto his face. “Now I don’t care if it’s here or in your room, Sunshine, but you need to go the fuck to bed. You look like shit.”

Just as he says it, the full weight of your fatigue hits you. You give a mumbled acknowledgement of his words, and try to leave the room, but all the adrenaline is gone from your system and nothing is left to stop the failure of your legs or droop of your eyes. The last thing you feel is something pulling you up before your knees hit the carpet, the last thing you see is green eyes on your own, and you hear an amused snort from above you.

“Goodnight, Sunshine. Try not to dream about me.”

You try to object, but sleep pulls you under before you can even remember why you need to.

[grandline-fics]

Ohhhh your fics give me so many feels!! 🤩🤩 I'm happy to read anything, really, but if you're in the mood for a one-shot, you know what I would love? The fake boyfriend trope with Ace! Fem reader and modern world AU if you're in the mood! I'll leave the reason up to you. Make an ex jealous at a wedding, mislead meddling parents, highschool reunion... Pick and choose! As I said, I'm all up for reading ANYTHING you write!

Thank you so much for your service! 🙌🏻🤩

- I ❤️ Ace Anon

DESCRIPTION: Fake dating, Modern!Au

WARNINGS:  none that I can think of

CHARACTERS: Ace

WORDS: 1,846

A/N: Thank you for this request. I hope you like what I came up with for this prompt. Maybe I'll do more modern!au stuff in the future

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

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You would have called yourself a liar if you said you didn’t have a crush on your neighbour. But who could blame you really? He was so easy to chat with no matter what time of the day it was. He’d always greet you with a smile and focus entirely on you. Even if you were in a bad mood, all it took was talking with Ace to brighten your mood immensely. He just brought a warmth with him that you couldn’t help be attracted to. Also yes he was very good looking but that was just a bonus really. You never acted on your crush, telling yourself that it’d fizzle out eventually and that Ace was such a nice guy that of course he’d already be with someone. So you merely enjoyed the interactions with him for what they were. 

One afternoon at work you were counting down the last hours. You couldn’t wait to just get home, order in some food and relax on the sofa in your comfiest clothes and binge tv. That was all you wanted for the free time you had to yourself for the evening. No stress, no drama, no effort. After a long week it was all you wanted but it seemed you weren’t even allowed that simple wish. As you were preparing to leave some of your coworker friends approached and began to pester you about heading out for the night. At first you politely declined but they kept pushing. “Oh come on! We’re all going, it’ll be so much fun!”

“Yeah! I mean you said no the last time too.”

“What could be so much better than coming out with us?”

“I already have plans.” You explained, hoping your vague answer would be enough to dissuade them from their persistence. But it seemed the lack of proper details made their imaginations run wild. Some looked at you in surprise while others grinned as if finally being proven right about something. “What?”

“So who are they?�� One asked with a sly grin. “Must be serious if you’re saying no to another night out with us.” They? You blinked in confusion. Why were they automatically assuming you were seeing someone? All you wanted was a cosy night in and now it was turning into an interrogation. If it got you out of the exhausting process of getting ready and going out when you were so looking forward to a peaceful night, you decided to play along. 

“Y-yeah. We’re just going to have a quiet night at mine.” You said, hoping they were all caught up in their own delusions that they didn’t see through your weak lie. “Maybe next time?” 

With that you continued on the rest of your work day, just trying to avoid any chances for your friends to launch into more questions about your made up love life. Now you were even more desperate to make it to the end of the day and escape. Finally when the clock hit the hour you got to your feet only to stop once more when your coworkers appeared yet again. “Good news! It’s not a work night anymore! All our partners are going out too so yours can join us and won’t feel awkward.” 

You trudged up the steps to the apartment building now in a sour mood. You should have just denied their assumptions you were in a relationship instantly and just said you wanted a quiet night to yourself. Now you were unable to say you couldn’t go out or conveniently say your partner couldn’t make the night out when you’d lied in the first place and said you were going to see them tonight. Ugh, you were seriously contemplating slipping on the set of steps in the hopes of just lightly twisting your ankle to avoid the embarrassment of being caught out in your stupid lie. “Woah, that’s not a happy face.”

Your head snapped up to see Ace approaching you as he also returned home for the day. Looking around you saw you were just standing in the entrance hall of the apartment building, lost in your thoughts. Quickly you tried to force your expression into a more pleasant one but since Ace had already spotted you weren’t yourself it was a wasted effort. He was perceptive enough that a half-assed smile wasn’t going to convince him. “C’mon neighbour. What’s got you so down? I’m not going to have to beat someone up am I?”

At that you laughed softly and shook your head, already beginning to feel a little better. Not wanting to block the entrance you began to move for the elevator to begin to journey to your apartment. Once you were both inside you let out a heavy sigh and began to explain your predicament. Through it all Ace listened but he couldn’t help but have an amused smile curving his mouth. “So now my only viable options are fake a breakup with this imaginary lover or injure myself just enough to avoid the night out but nothing too severe that I waste my entire weekend and can’t work. Either way I’m pretty screwed.”

“Nah, don’t say that.” Ace grinned from his relaxed stance leaning against the wall. “It’ll all work out, don’t worry about it.”

“Oh yeah?” You asked unable to stop your playful smile, it was just Ace’s natural presence and confidence that kept you from spiralling further into your panic. “Do you think the boyfriend I’d ordered arrive today and is waiting at my doorstep?” The elevator chimed as it reached you and Ace’s floor and you looked over as the doors slid open to see the hallway was empty. “Oh darn, still not there.”

Ace laughed and quickly hurried passed you to make it to your door before you could, and spun to face you with his arms out. “Ta-da! You’re boyfriend has arrived!”

“Y-you…“ You spluttered with a look of disbelief only making Ace’s smile grow. “You can’t be serious. You want to pretend to be my boyfriend?”

“Why not? It sounds like fun plus if it helps you out I’m happy to do it.” Ace shrugged, unbothered at the thought of having to pretend to be your boyfriend for the night. You couldn’t believe you were even discussing this with him. It was even more shocking how easily you were coming around to the idea. “Besides, if I do a bad job you can always dump me at the end of the night.”

“And if you do a good job?” You asked, unintentionally making the question seem more flirtatious than you'd originally planned it to be and you only realised how it sounded when Ace grinned at you. 

“Well if I do a good job, you can pick my reward.” He chuckled, throwing you a wink. “So you get ready and we can go out.” You watched Ace turn on his heel and make his way the last few feet to his own apartment and disappear inside, leaving you to be shocked back into the reality that now you had to commit to the effort of going out while also having to convince the people you worked with that Ace was your boyfriend.  

From getting ready and travelling to the bar you were meeting everyone at was a complete blur. While you were a ball of nerves, Ace was completely relaxed, effortlessly winning over everyone you introduced him to. Even those you were also meeting for the first time, Ace spoke to them like he’d known them his whole life. His charm and whole presence seemed to put everyone at ease had everyone all but swooning over him. Eventually though, the questions were turned to you.“So, we have to know how did you two get together? No wait! How did you meet?”

“Oh we were neighbours.” You explained, deciding to rely on the truth as much as possible. “Ace already lived in the building when I moved in.”

“Obviously I wanted to ask them out straight away but didn’t want to scare them off since they just moved in and I wasn’t sure if they were single.” Ace added, throwing you a sweet smile and settling his hand on yours, his thumb moving in soothing circles against your skin. You smiled softly and took a small drink trying to distract yourself from how convincing he was and how the smallest touch from him both grounded you and flustered you. “For a while I thought I’d missed my chance but the second an opportunity came up, I took my shot.” Your heart leapt into your throat and heat flamed under your skin when Ace slyly pulled his hand out to pull you close and press a kiss against your cheek. While your coworkers and their partners cooed over how cute it was that you were so shy with your ‘boyfriend’, the man in question grinned playfully at you, clearly enjoying every minute of this.

When it was your turn to buy the drinks Ace played his part well and followed to help you. While you waited to be served, he stood close with his arm loosely around you with his hand gently on your hip. His taller frame shielding you from other patrons pushing too close. It also helped to hide you both so you could finally talk openly without the deception. “Thank you again for this. It’s really surprising how good you are at this.”

“You don’t need to thank me.” Ace grinned at you. “Why are you surprised? Don’t I make a good boyfriend.”

“Well obviously you make a great one. You’re just so at ease with it all whereas I feel like a nervous wreck.” You explained with a small sigh. “I also feel guilty that you’ve been dragged into this when you could have spent the night doing something you actually wanted to.”

“As cute as it is to see, you don’t need to worry about it.” Ace told you seriously, taking you by surprise. “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want to do it.”

“But why did you want to?” You asked, still not fully understanding the motive of your neighbour. “Not that I’m not grateful but I can’t help but think there’s more to it than just helping me out.”

“Okay, maybe I was being a little selfish in my reasons…”Ace admitted with a small smile, he wasn’t entirely apologetic in his admission you saw but you could see the slight mischief in his eyes at being caught. “It’s like I told your friends. When I saw my chance I took it. I offered to be your fake boyfriend because I hoped it would make a good enough impression on you to make asking you out for real that much easier.” You could only stare at Ace in bewilderment, mouth slightly agape as you were hit with the realisation that maybe your crush on your very attractive neighbour wouldn’t fizzle out after all and may now instead actually ignite into something else entirely.

——————————————-

TAG LIST (If I’ve missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa , @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld , @deathsmajestysworld , @cloudysunset04 , @extremely-ashtridic , @decayingpizza , @liesatemyocean , @ace-for-ace , @nerium-lil , @destynelseclipsa

[angelltheninth]

Spiderverse Characters Lost Another Version of Their Lover in Their Universe

Pairing: Miles Morales, Gwen Stacy, Peter B. Parker, Hobie Brown, Noir, Peter Prabhakar, Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Tags: angst, different dimensions, pining, flirting, protectiveness, mention of death, a real bad time for our favorite Spiders

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters

A/N: Ok I lied, not everything will have a happy ending.

MILES

Is your silent protector, as a hero and as a civilian. Keeping a distance from you seems to be the best way to keep you safe so that is what he will do. Yes, he wants to be your boyfriend again, he wants to be the guy who makes you smile, and sometimes he is, when you run into each other in the halls and he tells you a joke but he limits his interactions with you. He will never tell you why he keeps you at arms length, you wouldn't get it, and if somehow you did then that would mean he dragged you into his dangerous world again. Which means he can lose you all over again.

GWEN

Lost her best friend and she lost you too shortly after the first time she came back to her universe. This loss almost broke her, she wanted to quit being a hero but then she remembered there was another version of you, also in potential danger in her friends universes. In every universe she looked after you, became your friend who would vanish for a few weeks and then come back. She explained herself as having family in many places so she visited them, but always made time for a version of you. What she would give to be with you again, but she can't.

PETER B. PARKER

Came very close to telling you the truth, how he wasn't your Peter and you weren't the version he first fell in love with. But he couldn't tell you that when he was dating you now, when it was him you kissed and went to bed with every night, when he got to see your smile every morning and come home to you. This time he won't mess things up, he will make you happy. It does mean he has to lie to you about some things, and these lies do weigh on his heart but no more than losing you again would. At least this time he can make sure you're safe, you're away from any danger of his superhero life.

HOBIE

Flirts with you all the time but never commits to a full date with you, sending you lots of mixed signals. It's like he can't help himself, can't keep his mouth shut, can't stop himself from stealing a kiss from you when you're walking and bantering back and forth. You were, and still are, his biggest weak spot so he never flirts when he's in his superhero persona, only as the charming musician. Always makes sure to bring you home safe and sound, as both personas. Gets really guarded when you ask him about the bruises he gets. You don't need to worry about him, this time he will do all the worrying.

NOIR

Wouldn't even think about trying to be with you again, no he will protect you but you won't even know it. Like a shadow, or a guardian angel that you will never see, only suspect is there, that is what is best for you and him. For his heart especially, which can't go through seeing you die in front of him, the red color mixing with the monochrome colors of his world. The first time it happened he took a break from work for a full year, drowning in sorrow. He has a chance to make things better in this dimension, to make sure you never see darkness.

PETER PRABHAKAR

He takes a while but he does eventually approach you and the two of you start dating, again in his case. The flirty, cute attitude he has is occasionally broken by a more serious face, one that he hides away just as quickly as it was there. When this happens he distracts you by taking you on a fun date, telling you how lucky of a guy he is to have you, that he never thought he'd be this happy again. It's all very vague, intentionally so, but sweet enough that he gets to a smile from you, a few kisses here and there as well, just to make sure you're having a good time. He will be the best boyfriend you ever had.

MIGUEL

Really hoped he would be able to keep all to himself in this dimension and stay away from you unless absolutely needed but fate really seems to love messing with him. Over and over again he's had to save you from getting hurt. It's like the universe is trying to force the two of you together no matter how he tries to put the distance between you to. As a civilian he only sees you in passing, greets you here and there, buys your favorite drink at your favorite café, but he never stays. It's the little things in your life. Maybe some day he will be able to talk to you, but for now he will stay on the sidelines.